Monday, May 23, 2011

Convent

Rainy day drive through the country
Eucalyptus, winding road, curio shops
Autobiography, old postcards and photographs
These places always smell the same
Old lady sits, disinterested
Doesn't care to sell anything today
Convent on hill, wet brick walk up
Wind blows in the door to chill bones
Rocket, mushroom, lemon, coffee
Stairways creak and if these walls could speak
The stories you would not believe
Art on walls, doors leading to more
I can see the whole valley
From the window of the bell tower
Paint peeled, old glass, aged wood 
Statues of values and virtues
Reds and greens and yellows and blues
Five dollars well spent
This old place is heaven sent
Or heaven bound
Were it's caregivers and the living
Makes me shiver in thought
In life and death and in between
Polynesian portraits alive in texture and colour
The trees outside shed their leaves to hide
From the approaching winter
And as we left
We could see our breath
Took the motorway back
Arrived from the north
For a change of setting
Sun broke clouds 
Giving birth to a whole new sky
As we arrived
The music seemed to be born again, too
Everything was new
As we wandered our way back home

1 comment:

  1. I think I'd be in love with you even if I wasn't already.

    ReplyDelete