The Stone of England has its own way of grounding itself in the soul
of anyone who can see with slow eyes, anyone who can feel the weight
and loft of an elemental defiance. How did those men of old overcome
the stone's resistance to stay firmly in the ground without movement?
But somehow those hands of determined fate said no, "We will build."
And they did build in the mystery of what they set forth in their hearts,
disregarding the place and the time, the toil and the chatter of the
impossible to be the arbiters of their co-creation with a force of God.
Would vision have the final say in times that could not see beyond the now,
and tools of steel and facile construction not yet known? I walk up to
these things of monumental proportions, and wonder at the testament
of a stone strewn England, where God and fashioned rock meld into one.
Stonehenge, so different than the Abbey of the Glastonbury times. Yet,
how much different are these arches to the heavens? What man has done
to build a beneficent house of worship has been an inkling in the nature
of humans for millennium..these English Stones not so diverse as formality.
Now would I walk and look among the remnants of an age gone by, and
view these stones as relics, without the crowds of believers mingling amidst
elaborate structures, chanting liturgies of prayer and ceremonies of the
meaningless, in this present moment of unfettered appreciation for the holy.
By Mark Sullivan (Man Mohan)
