Church – pagan poem

Anchors of old lie cold beneath stone

Above them all choristers sing, carolling

Leathered toes can’t stop the rot

The feeling, frozen, finds it’s way

Tendrils through cracks in the flooring

Into the soles of those listening

Boring

A tangible thought

A fleet feeling

Sparks fly but I stand grounded

In days gone by

History never on my side

But still

In Rhyme

I hide

Remember my bones anchor the stones

And Awen will always reside.

Come celebrate, baptize and marry away

But it is my spirit you ride

(End)

by Sam J Harris written June 2023 regarding holy springs/wells, druidism, anchor usage and churches.