Westminster Abbey

Magnificent
Queen of stones, most beloved
Aged woman of more than nine hundred years
Concealing well her maturity
Still solid
She has the look of a well maintained,
Wealthy matron

If she could speak
If she would but cry out
To tell of the
Generations; Generations; Generations
She has seen, felt, heard
Immeasurable, the worshipful prayers uttered here
How many candles lit?
Their melting wax dripping down like the years
Drop-drip-dropping into puddles
On these cool stone floors
Countless the songs from a multitude of voices
Raised in this place as joyful praise
Quiet now - hushed/shushed into whispers
By the unrelenting sleep of the ages

History alive - Breathing still within these walls
Ceremonial services of state
Weddings and Coronations
.Funerals.
Royalty - Dignitaries - Artists - Saints - Heroes
Those who once were fierce rivals in life
Unwilling-Unable to share in earthly glory
All buried close, within this stronghold
All rest as equals now
Lying silent and still
Before their maker

In this sanctuary
Newly aware of my own insignificance
I am nothing more than
A mote of dust
An infinitesimal speck of humanity
Caught between
The here and hereafter