If I Could Mcmlxxi Poem by Terry Collett

Deus amor est
a monk had told me that
that first time
in the guest room
while it rained outside,

trees along the drive
pruned well
looked like soldiers
on parade
and the tall bell tower
in the distance beckoning,

Dio è amore
the Italian monk said
as he and I made soup
and prepared lunch
in the abbey kitchen
amore incondizionato
he added,

the cloisters at evening time
dusk and just before
Vespers monks lined up
on either side
no words or whispers
just silence waiting
for the bell,

en attendant la cloche
my mind musing
on the monk in front of me
tonsured head
small ears
black robes
caught by moon's light,

primus gradus humilitatis
est obedientia prompta
St Benedict wrote
and the monk reading
in the refectory read,

George polishing
the choir stalls
with yellow duster
and polish
the scent mingling
with incense,

Hugh said
I made the chairs
in the common room
functional and well made
he added,

lectio divina
after Lauds
eyeing the pages
of the Bible
taking in the script
mediating on the words
and meaning,

Είμαστε δύο φορές
οπλισμένοι αν παλεύουμε
με την πίστη
Gareth read
quoting Plato
twice armed
if fighting with faith
Gareth said in rough translation,

the crucifix over my bed
aged by time
the Crucified
plaster worn
the wooden cross
dark wood,

I knelt and prayed
when and if I could.