The Novice

I wrote this – my first poem, in 1995. At the time I was living in a Benedictine monastery, as the lay guest master; this being after eight years as a Buddhist monk. Some of the subject matter is autobiographical, I found my life’s soul mate while living there; but it also evokes a young novice in the older times. Please excuse any faults – it can never be changed in any way. 

                                       The Novice

                        Awakening Sunday morning,

                        to the soul’s quiet decorum;

                           slips the night’s ease,

                       into my body a gentle peace;

                           lying passive in bed –

                    recalling poetry, I’ve never read.

               Suddenly, the inadvertent rooster’s crow,

                       vain foolish bird named Romeo;

                   yet we have something in common,

                        our shared concern is woman.

                          Queen of forgetful night,

                      release this poet’s blind sight.

                Sleep dispels to the birds’ dawn singing,

                    followed by the Lauds bell ringing;

                 calling to chapel, to prayer and fasting;

                    to praising God, for life everlasting;

                          but my heart’s real wish?

                      Ah, ’tis a woman’s gentle kiss!

                     Dear God allow me once again,

                to feel and accept the necessary pain,

                    of holding the living being in trust,

                     and not despising a natural lust;

                      for what it means to be in love;

                   the sad sweet mystery from above.

                                                                       D G Moody