The Darkest Night Mmclxxi Poem by Terry Collett

The bed against the wall
near the crucifix
on the wall above the bed
and a small lamp
on the bedside cabinet,

et sonus campanae,

time to rise
and prepare for Matins
opened the shutters
over the windows
to catch dawn's 5am light,

and she said
come back to bed
I want you to make love
to me again,

George in the toilets
getting water in the jug
for absolutions
but said nothing
because of the Grand Silence,

Dio parla nel silenzio
the Italian monk said
after Mass as we walked
from the church,

sunlight came and went
as we walked along
the cloisters after Lauds,

O Lord help me to be pure
but not yet
Augustine(saint) said,

I wondered that as I washed
down the walls
of the sluice room
after Terce smell of bleach
in my nose,

la remise de soi à Dieu
the French monk
told me as I helped
tidy the sacristy
before Sext and lunch
stomach moaning,

she was small but she
had this way about sex
that was tireless,

Hugh spoke
of his father's visit
and his father thought
he'd make abbot
but he left years later
and married,

the bell tolled
in the cloister
the French monk held
the rope as we entered
for lunch and grace prayers
and readings by the reader
maybe Cromwell's life,

hablar y Dios te escucha
the Spanish monk said
the rain fell as we waited
for Vespers
and I saw a rainbow,

it is easy to forgive
a child who is afraid
of the dark but the real
tragedy of life
is when men
are afraid of the light
said Gareth quoting Plato
on the lawn as we ate tea
and biscuits,

to walk with God
or in His shadow
looking for light
even in the darkest night.