Chad

From the Northern kingdom,
Born in high standing
Yet resolved to walk low
He was pulled humbly south
Over a score of years;
Sired in Aidan’s flock,
Soon the gentle shepherd
Would battle the Mercians –
In faith, in peace, in reverence –
And there, on a site of butchery –
A field of the dead –
A stained Lych Field,
Where Romans had slaughtered
He raised a church 
On blood and bones;
Where once was hell,
In time, an angel would peer
Through dirt and stones;
And there,
Where he rested,
Where he was despoiled,
Three slender fingers
Renewed from the cannons
Pierce the sky, a canon
A call, to his Trinity.