Inside the roundhouse is a sanctuary.
Bible stories frescoed on whitewashed walls.
Heavy cross beams above – functional not symbolic.

A sacrament table beneath and a half  circle of chairs,
The priest breaking the bread says
‘in this moment past and present become one’.

Now I hear the wind in the trees.
The fan tail steers the sails to face the wind,
Mill stones trundle, flour crushed for bread.