Scaffolding in the way

by Rosie Watson

 

It is Lent

I am slowly slowing

seated in this chapel.

 

Outside

the rain falls relentlessly

but I cannot hear it,

only see it

against green of the trees near the window

see it in beads of water

gathering volume

poised to drip from

the scaffolding -

ugly metal asymmetry

pressed up against the balanced beauty

of the arching chapel-window.

 

Scaffolding!

I regret your presence -

wish you gone.

Your absence of pattern

Your uprights, angles - amiss, awry,

offensive.

You’re in the way of my seeing

buds unfurling,

sunlight dappling

sky.

 

Yet, I sense

that you would also be my teacher,

for it is you

who enables repair, renewal,

restoration.

 

One day,

when all this work is done

you’ll be dismantled.

My ‘glass darkly’

no longer darkened

my face also illumined

as with my own eyes

I behold my Lord

know him even as also I am known.