This sonnet was written after a walk with friends from Speeton Church to the cliffs over Filey Bay. It is a favourite building, humble and plain; visiting it always makes me think of the simple faith of those early Christians, remote and at the mercy of the landscape and the elements. I have tried to capture what that faith might be like…though it is far from my own.
St Leonard’s Church – Speeton
God was everywhere in those days,
Off the headland and blowing from the sea,
Scattering the sheep, in the hearts of those
Who prayed for spring and sheltered on the lea.
They built this little church, raised the tower,
Of the simplest stone, against the storm
Of winter, and each week they gathered here
And in His words perhaps found strength and calm.
This white-washed room has stood a thousand years,
Quiet space for souls to fill with prayer
Perhaps for strength in lives of loss and tears.
And God is here, a Pentecostal wind,
Inside and out, confined and unconfined,
© James Nash 2016