Random Thoughts in the Herb Garden. (New Version).

I sat and dreamed in the lee of the chapel,

Sat and studied the herbs that now grow there

To create a metaphor of the resurrection,

Vivid new growth between worn stones.

"My head is like a sieve", the old woman cried;

As she sat down next to me on the low wall.

"Pour words into my ears, they fall straight off my lips,

Then evaporate into the Sunday air".

"But nothing is really lost", I thought as I sat silent

Studying the herbs and heaps of old stones;

"I can see the outline of the Bishop`s Chapel

Etched in the earth like a buried ship".

I would like to haul that ship out of the soil,

Set up the mast, a spire slashed from young oak,

Swing on the ropes and climb sky high

To fix a cross between wind riven clouds.

Pre reformation England haunts this place,

But the traffic gridlocked on London Bridge

Shakes the ground deeper than thundering bells,

Cathedral bells that call the people to Mass.

What sort of resurrection is implied

By these herbs that mark the wreck of the chapel?

Perhaps the interface of spring with winter

Where Launcelot Andrews was laid to rest?

"The garden is now closed", the old woman whimpered.

It seems that even she still keeps the hours

That drive this city to the edge of distraction

Grinding all quietness right out of our minds.

The Ship of Faith I sculpted in my imagination

As I mourned the loss of the Bishop`s Chapel?

Oh I wish I could sail that ship to a gentle land

And there recover the solace of Eden.

Trevor John Karsavin Potter.

August 28th. 2016. - February 14th. 2017. - June 11th. 2021.

The herb garden is situated at the east end of Southwark Cathedral, on a narrow strip of land between the cathedral and the southern end of London Bridge. The Bishop`s Chapel was demolished in the 1830`s when the 19th. century version of London Bridge was built, just to the west of the famouse medieval structure. The tomb of Bishop Launcelot Andrews was moved into the choir of the cathedral, where he is honoured as a saint.  The quirky remarks of the elderly lady were made to me one Sunday afternoon after Mass. As a catholic who loves and greatly admires the C of E I adore this place.