'Down he went towards the beach and out into the sea. At daybreak he came out, knelt down and prayed. Then two otters bounded out of the water and tried to dry him with their fur.' from Bede's Life of Cuthbert
Reading Bede, we tend to think
It must have been guilt drove him to it,
His own sense of sin that sent him
Out into those waters, an act
Of penance, of contrition,
And self-inflicted too.
But what if
It was one of those nights
We sometimes have in late July
When it’s really too hot to sleep,
And he’d stepped outside for a breath of air,
And then decided to wade about
In the waves for a while, and feel
The sand between his toes.
And what if there’d been a full moon
Above the silhouette of Bamburgh
And glints of phosphorescence,
And his prayers had been of thanks –
Thanks for the cool, soft breeze
And the sound of the waves
Dragging at the shingle; thanks too
That he’d been granted this great
Ocean at all, let alone a pair
Of lively little sea otters
To play about with?
And what if he was
Laughing, yes, and thinking of singing?
This poem was first published in Acumen 104 (September 2022). Reprinted with the author’s permission.