The Renaissance Priest Poem by David McLansky

The church bells rang as if the Huns invaded;
Was Alaric once more at the gates of Rome?
Or had the lusts of factions not been sated,
Had Colonna massed again to pillage homes?
The ringing of the bells drew me onward;
The peasants left their labors in the fields,
And all of us streamed like a flooding river
Toward the hub of Holy Christian Weal.
Loathe I was to leave my study chamber,
To leave my cloistered cell where peace abides;
But the bells insistent, wildly, pealing clammer,
Made me leave my scrolls, my ink, my hides.
A tonsured brother tripping on his cassock,
Sweating like a beast at noon day sun,
Ran at me his eyes wild and fantastic,
Sprawled before me ending his wild run;
Scarce could he breathe his breath out came so halting,
Tears welled in his eyes alarmed and strange,
He could not speak as if in fear recoiing;
As if his message left him stunned and full deranged;
He rose upon his knees and clutched my sandals
He gasped, he choked, he stammered, and he cried;
Was his report a new outrage, another Papal scandal?
He answered that Pope Innocent had died.