Many years ago I went on a bike tour of Bavaria.
We cycled through rural communities and often
found ourselves in dark forests.
And in the darkest parts of the forest it wasn't
unusual to come across a small grotto dedicated to
the Virgin.
A burning candle and Her image behind a wire gate.
The whole thing no more than a foot high.
To see it you had to kneel.
Each grotto verdant,
Smelling of damp earth.
Strangely fecund.
A holy place.
I like your little poem at the end. I saw lots of little Marian shrines like that in Italy too, the spontaneous creations of ordinary people.
ReplyDeleteSounds like fun, Francie, and quite intriguing.
ReplyDelete