Ode on Ys Bay Cathedral

Ys Bay is hard to access from the north
   as hefty headlands guard its pebbly beach,
but turn a boat to east and voyage forth
   and Breton’s coast is easier to reach;
the waters mirror colours of the sky
   and movements too, as cloudscapes drift and dance
      while Sun and Moon both travel on their ways
and gulls and terns and petrels wheel and fly
   above the sea as though in turning trance,
      a submerged city gleaming in their gaze.

Come mornings when the waters shimmer clear
   an old cathedral rises through the waves,
astonishing to witness, far and near,
   for birds on high to lizards in their caves;
as spires, towers, roof, and walls ascend
   a dozen bells begin a joyful chime,
      a thousand voices rise in cheerful throng
to organ thunderings, and then-– an end.
   The building sinks to seabed, sand and slime,
      and all that’s left is sky and seabird song.