Thursday, December 24, 2015

No room for why

My monastic cell, narrow as a gate.
No room for why; 

discouragement or zeal;
joy or despair; comparisons,

emotions; conviction or doubt;
stripped of everything but one,

last dot of self from which to witness;
offer silent praise and prayer.  

To be so tiny, my cell
must open to the sky;

have no walls; the whole
round planet for its floor

and contain in its every unfolding moment
the complete history of existence.

Narrow is my monastic cell; only long,
deep and wide enough for God.

O child of God, the scripture says
enter into a closet to pray.



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