The Hill of Crosses


This poem is inspired by a recent visit to the Hill of Crosses in Šiauliai, Lithuania. 


Ashed grey and weathered through

Surrounded some century’s

Past suffering not so different from our own.

 
To come and lay a sign

That love releases to save

Black memory’s, solidify some erotic emotions alluring

 

And then wander up and through the woven pathways

A child’s playground

Spiritual maze from loud cries of women weeping

 

To look up from the ground at them

And see some serialist horror

Scraped and scourged graveyard rituals

 

Only to feel also

peaceful serenity from suffering’s rock

Flowing with the river that sits alongside

 

Then to the other end

To realising that the mass continues

Around for acres of simple honoured vessels

%d bloggers like this: