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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460401" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>0009 Rococo time</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It’s part of the tourism thing –<br>you stick your nose, more in duty than in hope, <br>into the local church; <br>the flowers at least<br>may be friendly; the flower arrangers, busy..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">you’ve been in churches which<br>as soon as you gently push the squeaky door, <br>frown on you, their fingers<br>to their lips, and point<br>to ‘Thou Shalt Not’ where you expected Jesus’ open arms; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and to vast cathedrals asking, it seems, <br>an unformulated question of you<br>in their overwhelming magnificence<br>so that you’d like to kick a pew, <br>scrape a chair, dropp a hymnbook, <br>to find out in the echo echo echo<br>how Nanny says you should behave; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">but this one’s different: <br>as you step inside, it’s as if<br>the fraction of a second before that moment, <br>some huge song-and-dance spectacular<br>was in rehearsal, Busby Berkeley in full charge, <br>then ‘Freeze, kids…! ’ and all you see at first is<br>the lavish set: like a wedding cake, white as icing, giant size, <br>with a Technicolor sweet-shop suspended over it; while, <br>frozen in their extravagant body-language, <br>four golden figures beside you gesture, inviting you, <br>‘Come on in, you too are onstage now! ’; <br>these are no evangelists to tell you what<br>it’s all about; these are guys who know that you know too; <br>so of course you’ll want to join in, join the wedding party; <br>you were part of it before you knew you were…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">you’ve read the essays dutifully before you came –<br>‘ this Rococo church is a typical example of<br>the desperate overload of frivolous and<br>meaningless detail that betokens<br>the last dance of a culture in decline; note<br>the curlicues like sea-spray, shells and wavelets…’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">not so; not so; this is the joy of a Creation<br>whose every move and moment is all joy; <br>seaspray, shells and wavelets on that blessed shore<br>which hears the trumpets sounding on the other side; <br>which cannot find the time and space enough<br>to shout its joy in gesture, plaster, paint; <br>this is a church which people rush to enter<br>to sing and dance the joy of being themselves; <br>a church which smiling, happy people leave<br>and fill the streets with love; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">this church like some expensive wedding cake<br>is celebrating, dancing at its own wedding; and why not; <br>this joyful church is celebrating<br>the wedding of earth and heaven<br>and all, all are invited.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460401" data-title="0009 Rococo time de Michael Shepherd" data-description="It’s part of the tourism thing –
you stick your nose, more in duty than in hope, 
into the local church; 
the flowers at least
may be friendly; the flower arrangers, busy..

you’ve been in churches which
as soon as you gently push the squeak..."></div>
</div>
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