Jane Gransden writes : I think most of us, at some time in our lives, go through ‘the dark night of the soul’. It mostly goes on behind a mask, but I think there will be many people who can identify with it.

One Dark Night  ( November 2010 )

I want to cry, but I don’t know why.

 I want to shout but I can’t get it out.

I can’t feel a thing and that’s not good

because I should!

 And I would if I could.

Too much to bear;

Too much to share;

 Too much to care.

Don’t look! Don’t fear.

 Don’t listen; don’t hear!

 Don’t touch, don’t feel -

 Can it heal? O can it heal?

 Is it real?

Pinch me to keep me awake!

 How long will it take?

 My life is at stake.

 Will I wake and find daybreak?

 Will the sun rise?

 Blue skies? Bright eyes? 

Sleep brings peace – release,

 and frees the mind to find respite.

Night – night!

 Rest, God blessed. 

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I must admit to finding some grandiose churches, particular 19th century ones in the neo-classical style, profoundly ugly… but one gave rise to a poem, a church I went into the other day in Annecy, France ( near to Geneva ) – Alan

 Paradox : Notre Dame de Liesse, Annecy

In such an ugly church

where shall I see beauty?

Not in the holy statues, that’s for sure;

perhaps in light refracted

through coloured glass

splashed across columns ?

Yes, but here a greater beauty still :

kneeling by the plain altar in the chancel

this young woman places an array of flowers

and bright berries in a vase, taking time to adjust each,

to summon from the air some sense of beauty,

to make a new harmony out of nature

and with her touch and spirit’s life

transform this place of supernatural ugliness.

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