Kilbride's Ascension

Night, beneath the sunken mists and fallen hills

In seething seas, on howling sills

His shoulders sleep in patient grace

Wrists and ankles nailed in place

Shrouded in the silent dust

Of secrets lost and passions hushed

By windows smashed and doors locked tight

And visions crushed by law and rite

Here, where once the masses mourned his loss

Now cobwebs creep from cross to cross

Where birth and death once marked the years

Now gravestones weep with mossy tears

But at the dawning of the hour

As pigeons scatter in the tower

New light breaks where no sun shines

And in these dusty closed confines

Her spirit breathes in crypts and shrines

Tearing through the aisle and stalls

Crumbling down these fear filled walls

With roots and branches, veins of green

Reclaiming what has always been

As vines and flowers lick the spire

Burning him with Earth's desire

And at last our blessed lover

Is released from man to Holy Mother