Vienna’s Stephansdom
How to read
the intricacies of faith
chiselled into pale stone
every plane every angle
and in the cool silent shadows
weary emblems of ecstatic energy
of saintly narratives
and terrifying passions
The names in the inscriptions
gradually fading into dust
the corrosive way
of the world
of all life
humbled by death
What persists
is the belief
and something of the love
the kiss that outlives
the tears
the cross borne with a smile
Through the towering spire
cold winds whisper
and in the square below
the carriage wheels grind
and hard hooves resound
on the worn cobblestones
Yes a monument
to the warmth of fellowship
to a common purpose
expressed in dying crafts
an overwhelming art in which
the devil is in the detail
John Lyons