BLESSED ARE THE PURE 1971

A YOUTH IN AN ABBEY IN 1971 AND HAUNTED BY A WOMAN

Beáti immaculáti in via
qui ámbulant in lege Dómini,

I tolled the bells for the Angelus
pulled ropes with George,

be steady as you go
less you are taken high
Dom James had said
(about bell pulling),

sunlight on the cloister
after lunch and birds
from the one tree
in the cloister garth,

taking my hand
she lead me to her bed
to be bedded,

there are those
who seek knowledge
in order to serve
that is love said Bernard,

the French monk said
Dieu est dans tous,

I heard Hugh pale faced
talk of perfection
in the deeds done
he cleaned the latrines
with dedication,

the peasant monk
walked from farm to cloister
bringing manure
for the flower beds
in a wheel barrow
steady as a ship
through smooth waters,

she lay there
with that glint of eye
plough my furrow she said,

I weeded the monks graves
all Latin named
and Roman numerals,

none mow as you do
Dom Frederick said
by the church
as I mowed grass,

we must sow the seed
not hoard it Dominic said,

I sowed and she smiled
and lay there quite bare,

sancta Maria audi nos,

the smell of incense
in the choir stalls
and bread fresh baked,

George and I laughed
at the large table napkins
large as bed sheets
spread from neck to lap space,

Hugh laughed not
and unamused
his pale face.