Iconoclasm

I read this poem when the family recently scattered the ashes of my step-mother, Audrey (Bim) Coates. The poem was published in the May edition of Catena magazine.

Iconoclasm.

I walked the ruins

Of Binham Priory

And I felt

The Benedictine bereavement.

Reality is an iconoclasm,

A bereaver

A humiliator

A consumer of work

A destroyer of dreams.

I felt the Jewish bereavement

The Palestinian bereavement

The Ukrainian bereavement

And all bereavements.

But we still work

We still love

We still pray

We still believe

And we see,

We imagine,

Better,

Don’t we Jesus?

Peter Coates 16/04/24.

Published in the May 2024 edition of Catena magazine.

 

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