They stand statuesque at the doors
Motionless, fierce and domineering
Their garb, loosely wrapped
Inadequate for the weather
Yet they flinch not
But stare through the glass with wings furled
And harps clutched tight.
Have they arrived from above to this
Cathedral door, now shut against the elements?
To pass judgement on those of us within
At earthly voices raised, we think sublime
But which can bear
No comparison for their celestial tones.
Unsettled, cowed,
We move into the cathedral nave
And resuming our seats,
Ponder our inadequacies and our souls.
Angels West door Guildford Cathedral
John Hutton engraved these angels on the Great West Door. I find the angels forbidding and eerie. What do you think?
Words and photo copyright Englepip©
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