POEM: Cathedral of Rouen

While they're pouring out, I will offer them. It's a poetry kind of fall.

Between 1892-1893, the impressionist master, Monet, painted more than 30 versions of his study in light: the west facade of the cathedral in Rouen, Normandy.

POEM: Cathedral of Rouen 
Schuyler Brown
November 2022

It’s so hard for me to see 
the beauty 
in my own journey.
But yours looks so pretty from here:
courageous, enchanting,
steady and clear.
From where I stand the view is fine
truly in awe of all humankind.

Where is that wonder when I feel despair?
Where is compassion
when I can’t seem to get there?
When all maps are useless,
when all skies are grey,
when forgetting itself
becomes the way.
Unappreciative critic 
gets active and loud
I lose myself in the maddening crowd.
It's like looking at a Monet
at the tip of my nose.
All I see is randomness,
dots, strokes,
apathetic impressions.
Maybe I’m too close…

With others I step back
and take it all in.
And there I see in them
the whole Cathedral of Rouen!
West facade, morning light
Afternoon, red sunlight
Evening harmony in gold and blue.
In dull and grey weather,
I can see all of you.
A matter of perspective and attention;
all art and human expression
need some space to take form,
room to grow, appreciation,
a little mystery 
in the act of creation.

Today I walked in the woods
to a place where I could see,
Rhine Valley below,
a ridge line reverie.
Sitting still with a mountain’s view
I felt my dedication, perseverance
Devotion and truth.
To something within
deeper, brighter in hue
than my doubt and my fear: 
a much better view.
Then I found my own strength
and I soon understood 
what I am holding is precious,
basic and good.
Seeing art in the imperfection,
the big picture, 
not just a section.

I saw then the beauty 
of my own journey—start to end.
And in my very being and bearing
I was the Cathedral of Rouen!
Hallelujah! rang out from a choir of trees
West facade, morning sun
all of life’s subtleties.
Inside and out came both into sight
Myself as the bell tower
the altar, the light,
I was the priestess, the incense, 
the people in pews,
saying prayers to that power.
I was even 
the good news*.

*Gospel: Old English gōdspel, from gōd ‘good’ + spel ‘news, a story’