
This Is My City#2

Montserrat is a Benedictine monastery near Barcelona. It houses a Black Madonna statue that dates to the 12th century. The figure is above the altar in the basilica of the monastery. In her honour Gregorian chants are sung daily at noon. Many tourists travel here only to see the statue. The Black Madonna is the patron saint of Catalonia.
(photo credit: seeknewtravel.com)
Bones litter entrance
history scattered in dirt
memories exit
Milky way overflowed last night
spilling alabaster light into my life
Currents of ancient knowledge and history
flowed past my bedroom door
Gleefully I immersed myself in opalescent energy
shedding itself from borders of the galaxy
Ursa Major dipped low
growling amiably while helping me indulge
Angels hovered on the sidelines
excited as they watched events unfold
Aristotle, Pythagoras, Socrates and Galileo
mathematicians, scientists, mystics and priests
streamed by
splashing images of their ideas and philosophies as they went
Cassiopeia surged
Andromeda gushed
spiralling stars
rushing to escape their positions
I gulped and reveled in the shower of their wisdom
thriving in the unexpected arrival of this celestial accident
Sagittarius arched and bowed
amongst interstellar dust
I curtsied and giggled
at his chivalrous behaviour
As the star cluster
radiated and rotated
tried to right itself
I beamed
the magnitude of my aura
one with the universe
Dazed by the multitude of power
the flow of spirit
I slowly fell back
and remained prone
An orange hued giant star
floated back to the sky
as dawn approached
Galactic particles sprinkled on me
throughout the morning
Iridescent motes
tickling my thoughts
making me smile
(Image by Pieter Janszoon Saenredam)
The gatekeepers raise their sleepy heads
They have been dormant a long while
Many years have passed since anyone has crossed the threshold
Their curiosity is more intense than any fear that the visitors
may cause harm
The sentinels observe silently from the shadows
Maintaining their invisibility
They want to take in all they can before their presence is made known
Perhaps they will choose to remain in the shadows
A silent whisper in the corner
Or a large drop dripping off a soaring column
The visitors drop their voices to a hush as they enter the vaulted chamber
They cannot see any sign of life
The gatekeepers are well hidden
Still the transients sense another energy surrounds them
A flicker of the torch
A coolness across the cheek
Walls are looked at with awe
Painted fresco moves and dances in the firelight of the torch
Brought to life briefly with the illumination
Carved sculptures flow smoothly as light and eyes pass over them
The gatekeepers are content to allow the visitors to wander
They are moving with care and respect
Stepping carefully, touching softly
Whispering prayers of thanksgiving and homage
To deities of their own
As they retreat the gatekeepers scan the grotto and see
All is as it should be
Content that all is in order
They allow their heads to droop and close their sleepy eyes
(Inspired after visiting Oude Kerk Amsterdam circa 1605)