They met by a sacred oak tree:
The Celtic-British church delegates,
And Laurence and Augustine from Rome;
A sacred oak near to a great river near here:
At Cricklade on the River Thames perhaps,
Or Arlingham on the River Severn;
The wind soughed through the branches
Silver light stippled the water,
A coracle cast its steady shadow,
In the year of our Lord,
603.
A millennium and more later,
A scintillant refulgence,
A dazzle of artful light;
There, in Saint Laurence’s in Stroud,
Fractals of illumination,
Stained glass manuscripts;
The numinous and the mundane,
Paradise lost but regained,
Heaven and Earth conjoined,
In the year of our Light,
2018.
A celebration of our world,
Music, song and spoken word too,
A spectacle of the senses;
And over there, by the altar,
The Venerable Bede and Caedmon,
Smiling gentle smiles of approbation.