Footsteps
down the corridor
a swish of cloth,
there was a knocked
on the door
come in
you said,
Dom Higgs came in
an old monk
wrinkled face
tonsured head
he spoke
of the monastic life
he smelt
of aged sweat,
monasticae vitae
he said
you listened
uno con Dio
he added,
it rained
the black tiled roof
shone like black liquid
as you watched
and saw,
per guardare
e vedere,
refectory rectangle
long benches along
each wall
monks sitting
in silence
another read,
you sat on
the guest's bench
gazing at faces opposite
God's chosen,
ceux que
Dieu a choisis
black robed
pale of faces,
high windows
coloured glass
light in upon floor
and tables
the reader reading
lectio Divina,
plainsong sang
in abbey church
monks lined against
opposite walls
in choir stalls,
if God calls
you may enter
Dom Joe said
as you walked
the abbey grounds
soft wind
and bird sounds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem