Wondering Why Mcmlxviii Poem by Terry Collett

From the cloisters
the moonlight created shadows
across the garth,

a monk pulled
the cloister bell
for supper,

Dio è vicino
e lontano
the Italian monk
said to me
in the workshop
repairing a chair,

Dom Charles took an apple
from the tree
and twisted it just so
it came away
in his hand
and he rubbed it
against his black habit
to a shine and said
that's how it is done,

Dom George machined
the habit seam
as I watched
his tonsured head
shone in
the overhead lamp,

le opere che si fanno
possono essere l'unico
sermone alcune persone
si sente oggi
Francesco d'Assisi said
so I read,

I take my place
in the refectory
stand there
waiting for grace
to begin
studying the wooden floor
and how the overhead lights
shone there,

hoc autem qui parce
seminat parce
et metet et qui
seminat in benedictionibus
et metet
Paul of Tarsus said
Dom Joe told me,

who sows little
reaps little
whoever sows much
shall reap much
I mused,
orange bricks
browny black
in moonlight,

bell tolled
against evening sky,

I walked the cloister
wondering why.