Lindisfarne

Beside a ruined wall

Where ancient saints had stood and trees grew tall,

A curlew’s bleating call

Companioned me along the rocky strand.

 

While walking on this lonely beach

I looked for heaven, just out of reach,

I tasted salt from northern sea,

And heard St Cuthbert calling me.

 

Engraved upon the street,

A poem where ghosts and old friends chance to meet.

A widow’s tribute seat

Remembers one who loved this healing shore.

 

An old man kneels to pray

With foreign friends who walked their pilgrim way.

Seals singing in the bay,

Gave out their sad refrain for Holy Isle.

 

I listened to the tale

The people tell of how good Aidan sailed

And how he there prevailed

To bring a holy thing to Lindisfarne.

 

 

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