Bernard’s Dream

Bernard was (still is, as far as I know) a preacher who ministered at the church I went to when I was at university.  One day he shared a dream/vision he had had. That was over 35 years ago, but it was one of those images that stuck fast in my mind and eventually led to this poetic version. I have no idea whether or not Bernard remembers that dream.

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Tow path and canal

Tow path and canal between Pencelli and Talybont Upon Usk. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In my dream an angel came

And led me away to the country

And said “What do you see?”

So I looked and told him

That we stood in a field of perfect grass

Leading down to the tow-path

Beyond which the still, clear waters of the canal

Reflected the blue sky

And the line of perfect poplars

Marched, like soldiers, to the horizon.

“Its beautiful,” I said, rapt.

“I suppose so, in a way…” he replied.

Tree on Dartmoor

Tree on Dartmoor

Then he placed his hands on my shoulders

And turned me around

And I beheld the heath

Falling away in its wildness.

A river cut across in a drunkard’s walk,

A riot of boulders and weirs,

And the scattered trees had unique shapes

Formed of their battles with the wild wind.

“Glorious!” I said, and wept.

“Amen” he replied.

And I understood at last:

It was man who invented the production line,

And the photocopier;

God makes a billion snowflakes

And no two are the same.

Then I looked at the church

And I wondered:

Whose work is this….really?

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