Look upon us O God, creator of all things.
That we might feel the workings of your mercy.
I searched in vain at Mass to give this thought wings.
I was marooned in present doubt, not embarked on any spiritual journey.

Then I remembered once how in a visit to St Marks, distracting piano music had wafted from Florian’s cafe and and I had felt alone.
Every seat in the chapel had been taken and I was hot and tired.
And then at the raising of the host, I had knelt on the ancient worn and rough flagstone .
In that moment of one with countless thousands that before had there knelt, disbelief retired.

I felt at one with generations of Venetians.
The consecration came alive.
For two thousand years these words had been heard by Romans and Grecians.
I had need no longer to strive.

It was not the fine words but the very grittiness of the stone.
That set in train acceptance and touched me to the deepest bone.