My summer trip to St Davids was something I had wanted to do for a long time. As I walked around the headlands I discovered a quality of silence that I found both primal and creational.
Deep silence is before
the conversation of creation
before the first waves of unfathomed oceans
collided with strength of stone,
their music formed melodies of potential…
the drama of sun and moon
shade and light
the kiss of glorious fire consumes
the eternal love of a lovers life,
that melts stone like wax
with the imprint of pregnancy.
Before the silence I am formed
Creations life, its morning yawns
all its struggles to be heard,
all contrary desires for noise
the filling of innocence and youth
with the itchy skin of a world of tomorrows
and all the while
the deafening silence
pounds souls with holiness and fire
that deep ointment
forged in the vaults of the Baptist’s voice
and glazing the landscape with belonging.