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notes from a small vicar
from a parish
in Liverpool, UK
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Saturday, March 20, 2004
Floodwaters
posted by John Davies at 7:37 PM
One of the best things about a stormy day is it encourages you to stay indoors, dwell a bit. Which is one of the best things about moving, too. Another best thing about moving is it forces or encourages you to rediscover all sorts of lost treasures from your life. So, dwelling a bit today, I rediscovered a few lines I penned at the end of the holiday I took in November 2000 - in the week of those storms which left half our land flooded. It describes my wet-weather retreat at Ffald-y-Brenin, deep in the heart of the old country, Pembrokeshire.....
I have seen roads become rivers: cars calmed, lorries lulled into tarmac-floored lakes.
I have seen trees afloat
And sheep adrift
And ex-chapel showrooms awash at the edge of watery fields.
I have seen dark clouds scud across Preseli's gentle peaks
Washing their green slopes greener
I have seen Cwm Gwaun soaked: subdued;
Which once exploded into shape through the upward force of icefields
Now drips.
I have seen a three-legged dog wag its tail once at me
Then hop rapidly into a doorway.
I have seen the eye of God in the glance of a magpie.
I have seen dead creatures staring out blankly through roadside puddles.
In a churchyard
I have seen an ancient cross that glows fire-red
And a yew tree dripping blood.
And I have seen St Brynach, who once subdued evil spirits
And brought a dead cow to life in defiance of a king,
Portrayed in cross-stitch, in a cope of many colours
Armless, expressionless, beautifully designed.
I have seen my way marred by mud
And have stared out a squirrel, twitching at me halfway up a tree.
I have seen my face in a mirror: it looked shocked.
I have seen St Dogmaels on All Saints Day
Grey and unsurprising save for an astonishing Abbey.
I have seen the past catch up and overtake
In places like this.
With the world slowly sinking under floodwaters
Lights blinking, lines open,
Awaiting submersion,
I have seen the old land
Afloat
In the tar-lined coracle of faith.
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john davies
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