NOTE: This week I figured out a major
plotting problem. As a result, this scene
will be much longer than the others
and I only got a portion of it done.
I'm also playing around with a slightly
different meter for the lines,
and this further slowed my work this week
But I now have a much better idea of where
the story is headed, so the scenes
coming up should have more detail
than the past installments have had.
The town of Vaxen had a single church –
A simple building, not a great cathedral
Built from quarried stone. The local folk
Had gathered river stone and mountain rock,
Materials not valued by the masons
Sought by wealthy Europeans.
More like a villa built around a silo,
Its rounded walls became a substitute
For vaulted ceilings; timbers spanned
The sanctuary, waterproofed with tiles
From local craftsmen – rough but solid;
And barrel windows, framing painted glass,
Provided them a poor man's imitation of
The glory bigger churches took for granted.
A village might be poor but names cost nothing,
So "Vaxen Abbey" gave a sense of pride
To all its people. A stairwell wound its way
Around the sanctuary's outer wall.
Each Sunday, Father Benedict would climb
The steps and slowly toll a massive handbell,
Summoning his charges. They would scurry
Down the street and enter by a heavy
Oaken door embossed with symbols.
A giant cross there welcomed them inside.
It was to this door that Dietrich now came.
He pounded on the door – respectfully,
Of course! – till Benedict responded.
The door swung open slowly and the priest
Appeared. A massive smile spread 'cross his face.
"Ah, Dietrich, my good friend! It's been a while.
How have you been?" he asked. He looked concerned.
A moment passed in silence. Dietrich glanced
Around the church and, seeing no one, asked,
"Father, have you time to spare for me?
A great many questions have plagued my thoughts
Of late. I find myself in need of wisdom
Far beyond my own. Might I impose?"
"Of course, my son," the father said. "I'll always
Make the time to help you find your way.
Perhaps I'll even find some 'sacramental
Wine' the church can spare." He smiled. "Come in."