Ekphrasis from the Workshop… The Knife Angel outside Coventry Cathedral
The knives are out for those of faith
who see their Lord down in the streets.
They say ‘keep out of politics',
despite in House, Lords Spiritual -
a player on the bench OK?
And here we see St Michael mount -
as guardian in lore, widespread -
where war had shocked us to the core.
Dilemma, more than puzzle, for
Enigma had revealed planned blitz
but, sacrifice for secrecy,
the city died to win the more.
So Coventry, twinned Lidice,
mapped place name where there is no place,
with Stalingrad and Dresden too,
from bitter cold to vacuum fire,
in reconciling, like cross nails,
old enemies as new found friends.
Vox populi, unpopular,
a sign of contradiction borne,
in creed of turning upside down.
But now it’s knife crime in ascent,
attack, defence in common stance,
so statuesque, blade runner’s wings,
for if belief should cut it here
it must unite our fearful tears,
our earthly sphere with that beyond.
Those outspread hands make their appeal.
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