Via Viatores Quaerit. – St Augustine
(The Way seeks Travellers)
On Tuesday,
Sanctus Dominique,
May his Name be Blessed,
despairing of that peace of mind men seek,
awakened from the dream of his unrest,
to find within the Vision of his Mental Disarray
His Conscience
—clearing all the clouds away!
A suicide bomber dies
to leave more innocents for dead.
Dominique saw that he must martyrise
himself instead,
and cause no harm
to fifteen hundred of the Faithful
gathered in Notre Dame.
He held a mirror to awaken sleeping minds
to what they do not understand
—the creeping poisons that blind and bind
the soul and individual,
and destroy the anchors of family and fatherland.
'I have a strong belief
my friends
will transcend
their grief
with pride
once they comprehend
the reason why I died.'
On Wednesday,
Satan sends his youngest daughter
to prostitute a human's body
before Jehovah's altar.
Je suis la voie qui cherche les voyageurs.
I found the Notre Dame a cold place. A very imaginative poem. Thanks for sharing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Now, more than two years after his death: Has he awakened sleeping minds?
I don't know. It's been a long sleep. Thanks. B