Set free, led willingly, sat by the pastures
immersed but not wet.
What flows down quenches but doesn’t drown
and with splendour crowns the canopy,
showering round blessings with the rays
that peel in past the twelve tribes,
and names, and leaves, and whispers:
Hopes left behind when the cloud moved.
to rest with us amongst the trees-
thick in the cacophony of voice lifted
embraced in the opened arms,
fingertips into (and past) the blue,
and hearts in heaven.

Beaumont, Canopy Compass Rose (2015, Trinity College, Bristol)

For more insight into theological thinking around sacred art and spaces see Shospace work and book here. My review of her book can be found here.