Monastery

by John Gregory Evans

© 5/6/2020 3:48:39 AM

Interior pull

a Springtime day

sixty – mile drive

the gate

pulls me in

to where beauty begins

inside.

Hearts play from heaven

the Visitation

Jeramiah, yes

wisdom, goodness, reverence for the Word

A kindred bond

The Abbott’s invitation, thus

lunchtime.

Brother monks, Priests, gather at the

large table,

prayer upon prayer.

Spiritually devoted in

Reverence and holiness,

I felt Presence

indeed, Presence

A disturbance sits nearby, chuckling

Not certain why.

I draw near to the Father,

Holiness

Permeates the spirit of the humanity factor.

Departure, bowing monk

we leave upon knowing

He is present

among us.

Peace, thus

embodied within our hearts.

John Gregory Evans
© 2019

It
remains not mine to say whether I would pity a colorful word of verb and noun, or,
from where it may come, or the color of its skin, for I have seen the Lord,
and, know him to be of spirit not acquainted with such superficialities. I
believe in you O soul of the deepest of transparent hearts, only to reach out
in love for our lovers with skin as dark as the night. The ocean is deep, and
so may a man’s heart burn in love for his neighbor of color and his words that
reflect a right to truths the earth refuses to hear.

I
become saddened in knowing the earth was in despair, and know from whence it
came, where colonial powers for a haughty jurisdiction influenced only by fear lingers,
why, I hear my brother’s cry, not at a distance…