Remembrance Evensongs

The stones hold still around us, as they have
for countless generations long since gone.
The oak and slate which shelter chancel, nave
and sanctuary, enabling our songs
to rise up as the autumn evening darkens,
like all that lies beyond this place, grow dim.
The candles flicker, echoing the sparkle
of hidden stars, and distant bombs. Within
these walls we are both separate and connected
with all who long for peace this holy night,
with all who search for shelter, unprotected
from the falling tears of war that blur their sight.
We see them now in our imaginations
though we cannot imagine what their life
must be. We offer prayers of supplication
on their behalf and hold them in their grief.
On this solemn day of deep remembrance,
in a world that seems so full of dark and cold
we hold on to their memory like the embers
of a bonfire, glowing with light and hope and gold
and as we fan those flames we are reminded
that we are called to keep that fire ablaze
and shining bright, that others too may find it
and in its warmth and light live out their days
in peace. In peace. In peace. And not in pieces.
To see God’s image torn apart by fear
in hospitals and fields and camps and beaches
and only pray it doesn’t happen here
within these sacred walls that for a thousand
years have held the sanctity of life
yet they are we and we are they, and shrouded
by the mists of war we join them in their strife.
In this safe place, this holy place, this shelter,
this refuge from the world outside we find
that in all our magnificats and psalters
the sorrows of the world are brought to mind
and held before us like a candle, flickering
in God’s presence where it all belongs
continuing its long, slow, healing. Quickening
our spirits as we raise our evensongs.