GORDON STRONG
Writer - Speaker - Magician
The old town is as evocative and as charmant as any of Vielle France but it is the Cathedral that is
The darkness that greets the visitor who enters through the West Door is almost tangible. It is made so by memory. For over a thousand years, this place has been sacred. The well in the crypt is deep, as if connected with secrets hidden in the Earth. They are guarded by the Past.
Mass is celebrated, probably with the same well-ordered ritual that a devout peasant might have seen in the Middle Ages. The light illuminates the chalice, gleaming in the cupped hands of the priest. If there was no magic an instant before, now it is impossible to deny.
Notre Dame de Piler, the Sacred Veil, the Black Madonna, all are in majesty here. It is as if the Goddess knows the power she owns and is content to bless all with it. To kneel before her is to be wrapped in the holiest of robes, protected from all hurt unto eternity.
As the wanderers circle the nave, all manner of form and every hue imaginable are there in the great windows above. To walk this ground is be bathed in glory - a privilege indeed.
To follow the Labyrinth is to play a part in an allegory of life. Children scamper, the old march slowly. Faces stir recollections, ancient passes modern in a divine rhythm. Time becomes a presence that may be recalled only if it is so wished. The journey continues until it ends, then begins again.
All the world is here, as if a splash of clear water in a pilgrim’s shell. This is
~o00o~
