Once more on Lindisfarne - and the clouds clear to allow the moon to delight us
A gibbous August moon,
almost brushing the Cheviots,
casts its gentle light
over Cuthbert’s islet-of-respite.
A refuge, it is said,
when his saints were less than saintly,
and he needed
that aloneness-with-God,
in which the soul,
given space and time,
can fuse into
the blessedness of cosmic one-ness.
