Monday 13 July 2015

Honouring the Mother




Many years ago I went on a bike tour of Bavaria.


We cycled through rural communities and often 

found ourselves in dark forests.


And in the darkest parts of the forest it wasn't 

unusual to come across a small grotto dedicated to 

the Virgin.


A burning candle and Her image behind a wire gate.

The whole thing no more than a foot high.


To see it you had to kneel.


Each grotto verdant, 

Smelling of damp earth.


Strangely fecund.



A holy place.









2 comments:

  1. I like your little poem at the end. I saw lots of little Marian shrines like that in Italy too, the spontaneous creations of ordinary people.

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  2. Sounds like fun, Francie, and quite intriguing.

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