tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7990993458493326986.post4995203645802792338..comments2023-07-13T09:42:44.874-04:00Comments on Distant Temple Bell: Holy WellDavid Healdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03155225872953006852noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7990993458493326986.post-42331336770500038032009-05-05T12:06:00.000-04:002009-05-05T12:06:00.000-04:00Of course I love this story. It was a magical day ...Of course I love this story. It was a magical day in its own right. Here's my condensed version, written mostly back in 2005. It's in poem form, and I don't know if that will transfer well to the comments box.<br /><br />Holy Well<br /><br />They say that wells are holy places, thin places, places where the veil between the "two worlds" parts more easily. I don't really know.<br /><br /><br />At St. Colman’s well along Oughtmama’s grey<br />and slumping slopes, the ash tree wind-carved, <br />wind-halved, leaning, sheltering the small rock wall<br />encircling a shallow pool, three steps down<br />to where the tokens of others’ prayers remain: <br />a Euro coin, a limpet shell from a nearby shore, <br />a plastic statue of Mary. And on the fuschia shrub rooted<br />in the well’s mucky bottom, colored strings and threads <br />are left wound round in supplication. Three steps down<br />to scoop the water and anoint your eyes, a cure<br />for eye diseases, tradition holds. Help for seeing clearly. <br /><br /> To me farsighted with middle age,<br />this seems an empty gesture, a quaint game for other folks<br />of other times or other, blinder faith. But I step, stoop, scoop<br />and splash, fumbling, awkward, making excuses. No flash of light<br />or insight. Just our young guide, prodding, teasing: “You’ve got to have faith.” <br />Later, still sitting by the shaded well, “Are you happy,” he asked,<br />“with the choices you made for your life?” We walk home<br />under the watery colors of sky and clouds, green pasturelands, <br />grey limestone, and farther on <br />the sea.Sukie Curtishttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15261127654652802027noreply@blogger.com