if, like Trappists,
we professed vows to valleys,
reclaimed Forest as our first language,
widened our prayer’s wingspan
to include the ruby-crowned kinglet’s
littlest litanies nesting
in the thickets
of our ears?
If, like monks,
we strove to rise each day
earlier than ego,
made no distinctions between
holiness and humus,
love and lark.
Bowed morning and evening
to the waning wick
of how little endures.
Imagine, if you will,
what it would be like
to live as landscape,
pace your life to leaves.
Speak, and when you do,
enter each word the way
you would a monastery,
silently and slowly
as the growth
of a tree.
A beautiful text in the image of Thomas Merton.
From France, cradle of the Cistercians and Trappists.
Merci beaucoup pour vos aimables paroles. Ma vie et ma poésie ont été fortement influencées par Thomas Merton et les premiers cisterciens, en particulier saint Bernard de Clairvaux et Aelred de Rievaulx.
Daniel
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Thank you, Daniel. Very moving and beautiful poetry. As I read, I felt a sense of moving through the woods on my daily path, which is always spiritual for me. I have the sense that our God and all spirits are walking here with us. Jan
“enter each word the way / you would a monastery”
This line rings like a bell of return to the sacredness of sound and speech
I was the abbey bell-ringer for four years. Perhaps all this practice ringing bells worked its way intp my writing/poetry?
Thank you for your poetic feedback and for your own poetry elsewhere on this site.
Daniel
May I read this poem in my church?
Yes, I’d be honored. Please, be my guest. Thanks for asking.
Daniel
This is luminous، so quietly reverent and alive. Your language makes devotion feel like listening to leaves. Congratulations on your Pushcart nomination!
Lustrous. Good health Liz