Liverpool Anglican Cathedral




Echoes of footsteps in the knave
Arrive seconds later but it is only me
Iíve stopped now
But my footsteps carry on
Following me into eternity

It is easy to think those special
Private thoughts in here
To dream of praying to something
It even smells of God;
Candle wax, long dead flowers and

Incense, lurking, lingering on drapes.
Set free when I brush past.
It catches me unaware,
Vulnerable
And open to redemption.


By Hilary Neville