Peace at Taize

Knobbly knuckles and wobbly knees fold down 
On the mat with yesterday's dust and today's pebbles 
Before the altar, fo'csle on a troubled ship 
Struggling under saffron sails,questioning survival.
Shoes off and the voices of the world silent 
As number 53 shows up on a digital monitor
And the rich tones of a French tenor break in
With 'Dona la pace', saturating the soul with repetition
And lingering still in the echoing halls of the mind,
Lifting the sorrow, stress and strain of a world on the edge. 
 
So we leave for the countryside blessed by a Burgundy sun
Baking down on a picnic lunch under the conker tree,
Overlooking hills gently patterned by the farmer.
And the world seems at peace,and we know what we want,
Restored by a presence we can’t understand but know  
As the storms within settle, but those beyond rage on. 
 

Taize  September 2017 



The Sanctuary, Taize