To Julian – Ella O’Shea

you’re enwombed within stone, this anchorhold,
wool on your skin, the draught on your feet
ink on your nose, barley in your teeth.

to look at a hazelnut and see everything — how marvellous
to have eyes filled with wonder, fear, love,
to hold a cat close, press into her flesh,
feel her mothering warmth, as in Christ’s side.

it is all that is made: these four walls,
a bed, a pot, the altar through a slice in the brick,
to mumble the soft clothing of prayer
in its comfort-slots every day,

to look up through your small window, and
have your eyes receive the stars,
scattered on the blanket of night,
seeing as God did, in the beginning.

it is very good, it is now
and ever, all shall be
well, in this Word,
this world

without end.