DEEP OCEAN'S TOSS 1971

A YOUTH IN AN ABBEY AND BEING HAUNTED BY A WOMAN

Evening chill in cloister,
moon in one corner of the garth,
stars sprinkled like dust,

what you do not see
and believe is faith
Augustine said,

I smelt the evening air,
sharp, chilling,
as I walked the cloister

from the novice room
to my cell Dom Jame's
voice in my ears,

words on plainsong,
Latin language,
study he said until it sticks,

and she had me
between her and within her
as a flower in a vase,  

no one heals himself
by wounding another
Ambrose said,

I breathed the air as I stood,
a monk walked past
head down eyes

on the cloister floor,
I fingered the rosary
in the pocket

of my black jeans,
felt the silver plated Christ
with my thumb,

the clock tower
chimed a quarter,
echoed the area,

without love, deeds,
even the most brilliant,
Theresa said, count as nothing,

moon glow, stars as dust,
Dixit Dóminus Dómino meo,
bell tolled from bell tower,

orange bricks, seemly darker,
sede a dextris meis,
hold me she said

I felt her warm skin
against warm skin flower fresh,
arms about my body,

my ship in her harbour,
the French monk
placed flowers

by the Holy Virgin's feet
in the cloister
lit by moon's light,

I walked the stairs to my cell,
one step at a time,
Hugh walked past,

glum as a w***e's bum,
eyed me as he went,
in my cell the Crucified

is high on the wall,
aged by years,
I sign the sign of the cross,

I am at sea,
like one
in deep ocean's toss.