The Green Man

In an ancient village church, still, so still,

Smelling of wood and stone,

The dust of memory imbuing the air,

I look up and spot the Green Men

Inhabiting the roof bosses,

Snarling, sighing, following me with their eyes,

Disgorging vegetation from their mouths,

A puissant uncanny tribe.


Chartres in the rain:

Stones deepen to brown-orange and blue-grey,

Walls and buttresses glisten,

Portals’ columns and carvings shine.

Nourished at the roots, the whole cathedral

Swells, replenished, green hints in the stone,

The recesses, arches, gables and tabernacles

Revealing some of their mysteries.

Water pouring down the transepts’ facades

Issues from the spandrels, north and south,

Through bestial mouths, jetting in gouts

To splash on steps below...This is the cross-bar

Where the north-south line of time

Transects the east-west line of eternity.

Corbelled out on brackets, carved in waves

Of Deluge, the Green Men and gargoyles

Swim through the sky, as earthly waters

Pour and pour, transfigured into life itself,

And the devout soul, bearing witness,

Leaves this place with newfound vigour,

To bless the world with holy water.


Viriditas: the Divine Word penetrates

Body and soul, here in the branches

Of the Tree.

I have seen the Green Man’s face

In so many places, peering out from the swirl:

Wise, demonic, sinister, angelic,

Contemplative, prophetic, idiotic, frowning,

Benevolent, weary, youthful, primitive,

Leonine, chivalrous, fantastical, amused,

Mournful, bestial, solemn, ethereal,

Omniscient, somnambulant, professorial,

Mischievous, filling the woodland

With laughter, praise and song.