Rublev

One day, God walked in, pale from the grey steppe,
slit-eyed against the wind, and stopped,
said, Colour me, breathe your blood into my mouth.

I said Here is the blood of all our people,
these are their bruises, blue and purple,
gold, brown, and pale green wash of death.

These (god) are the chromatic pains of flesh,
I said, I trust I make you blush,
O I shall stain you with the scars of birth

For ever. I shall root you in the wood,
under the sun shall bake you bread
of beachmast, never let you forth

To the white desert, to the starving sand.
But we shall sit and speak around
one table, share one food, one earth.

- Rowan Williams

This was a very serendipitous day on our way back to Birmingham from Painswick. We decided to stop in a small village called Slad to see the birthplace of Laurie Lee (who wrote Cider with Rosie) and the churchyard where he is is buried. To my great delight and surprise (and that of my sister, Daveen, who is also following this book of Lenten poems) we saw in the church, called The Holy Trinity, a print of the very painting described in this poem!