! Saint Bernard In The Fields At Clairvaux. For Hilary. Poem by Michael Shepherd

That day as the sun set,
its afterglow flooded the world with light
like the meeting of heaven and earth; then
the great bell of the abbey tolled the vesper;
the workers in the fields lowered their scythes
and bowed their heads or knelt on the sharp stubble;
a grasshopper rested on the rough hem of my robe;
nature held its breath and knew eternity

I listened as the echo of the bell
took all my listening, and then
was heard no more; but listening remained;
the silence became full of all things, and
all things were praise and
all things were love and
all things were understanding:

there I heard no other;
there I saw no other;
there I understood no other;
but was infinity itself

love itself is understanding;
understanding is itself all love.