Peterborough recently hosted the Methodist Collection of Modern Christian Art. I spent one morning as a guide and this is my reflection on the experience.
They enter through timbers.
The abbot’s dark barricade that no longer
dissuades the casual visitor.
Welcomed by pipes who whisper
reverberating off stones
that stand anonymously attentive
serving a higher purpose
that eyes cast to heaven
may regard the ceiling.
Still, the Jesus, the Christ crucified and risen
Watches over; his pluriform suspensions
unnoticed; eyes transfixed instead by medieval paving slabs.
At the end of the day I am amazed
by those who gaze more on graves
than the subject who inhabited their ways.