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.