(Note: If you have stumbled upon a piece of our Words Divinely Wrought poetry anywhere on the globe or if you would like to join our band of Divine Poetry Emissaries, please make Contact via the link on the left-hand sidebar. Simply put, we are transforming the heart of the world via 12 poems and as many individuals who wish to participate.)
UK resident Jane P continues to astonish me with her imaginative poetry-planting sites. Once again, I must register a tad of envy at the globetrotting adventures made manifest for the poetry I penned here in the dusty, rural American Southwest.
Jane’s most recent adventure included a visit to St. Hilarion Castle in northern Cyprus. Several links in this post weave the history of the fortress, which, according to this one, “is named, not after St. Hilarion the Great, the founder of monasticism in Palestine who died near Paphos about A.D. 371, but after a later saint, of whom little is known. He is counted among the three hundred saints who according to local tradition, sought refuge in Cyprus when the Arabs overran the Holy Land. His relics were preserved in the castle and “kept right workshipfully” according to an English visitor in the 14th century.”
Another link suggests the castle is named “after a little known hermit who fled Palestine during the 7th century to live and die up here, purging the mountain of pagan demons. It is said that the hermit was stone deaf, so was able to resist the tempting cries of the demons who stalked the mountains with ease. The demons finally admitted defeat, and left Hilarion and the mountain in peace. A Byzantine monastery, and later a fort, sprang up around his tomb.”
To hear Jane tell it, she and the unnamed gent in the photo (perhaps a reincarnation of Richard The Lionhearted?) braved raw and formidable elements to fulfill their Divine mission:
“Just back from our trip to Northern Cyprus. I didn’t manage to leave a poem at Bellapais Abbey as I had intended but, braving bloodcurdling temperatures, we climbed up to St Hilarion Castle, located 732m above sea level [2400 ft] (with photo to prove it!), where I left Prayer for Radical Forgiveness in what used to be a stable in the Middle Ages, but which now serves as an information area.”
Thank you, Jane, for so deeply embodying the spirit and intention of our global poetry-share. And, to others who may be hanging back with a bit of reluctance, remember: Even the most seemingly mundane locale is made sacred with the addition of Words Divinely Wrought. Trust your heart: It knows the way.
Next up, Prayer for Inclusion takes a seat at Notre Dame de Paris, thanks be to Christine from Down Under…