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Sharon Hoffman.jpeg

Rosslyn Chapel

I put my hand
to the Apprentice Pillar
and did not know
whether I hoped or feared
science might one day show us
something hidden there.

In the dark sacristy,
I saw the lines incised
in walls and floor.
A castoff cupboard stood
abandoned in a corner,
and I wondered what it held.
And under that, I felt the pull
of the vast vault beneath,
sealed up for centuries,
holding its secrets close.
Outside, later, I crossed

the ancient bridge over the Esk
and the deep glen of sacred trees.
I closed my eyes
and turned my face sunward,
asking: Light, enter me.

And I saw that the sun
showered down on me
before my prayer and after,
that it abides inside me,
bright and shining,
and that I am its cup, its vessel,
both now and always,
a chalice of light.

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About Sharon Hoffman

Sharon Weightman Hoffmann is a writer based in Atlantic Beach, Florida. Publications include New York Quarterly, Beloit Poetry Journal, Alice Walker: Critical Perspectives (Harvard University), and Isle of Flowers (Anhinga Press). Awards include a fellowship from Atlantic Center for the Arts and two Pushcart nominations.

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