Sacrifice at The Abbey

A poem processed in my mind during Mass:


Crows soar in-between high-arched rooftops,

Graves lie steadfast below, upon the wet grass

Next to the withered stained-glass, through raindrops

Thick beside the church, outside the damp window,

Where the monks have gathered for Mass. 


Oh, be joyful, for the coming of Spring, for Christ

Whose sacrifice we willingly participate, expectation

For the celebration, forgiveness of Sins, all rise

Giving thanks to Him, Our Lord Jesus Christ.

He Blessed this church, with monks singing their hymns.


Lord have mercy on us, hallelujah,

The Kingdom of God is close at hand.

Brothers and sisters, we pray for you, ah,

Dear Benedictines, most Holy, you make 

known your worship across the land. 


Our roof is not worthy of the Messiah,

But at his command, are we truly healed

By His body and blood, bestow peace on us

Go forth into the community with life’s zeal,

Souls torn open by the beauty of Salvation. 


Midnight Love



Midnight love,

Oh, love hath gone astray.

In the night,

We hath loved wildly.


Midnight love,

Oh, how love hath disobeyed.

In the frenzy,

We have turned crazy.


Midnight love,

Oh, fled away hath our love.

In the fleeing,

We hath thus seen clearly.


Midnight love,

Oh, how hath love turned to scorn.

In the delivering,

We hath trust none with understanding.


Midnight love,

Oh, if love have been delighted.

In the night of dark,

We hath instead rebuked our two hearts.


Midnight love,

Oh, love have been held captive.

In the receiving,

We hath seen our enemies pleasing.


Midnight love,

Great was the company:

Your heart and thy bosom,

Loaded with all worldly passions,

Rest at the feet of thy heavens;

Where beautiful it is still loving you,

Midnight love.

The Young Monk

The young monk celebrates Mass:


A young monk knees in the aisle

In the West, in the shallow 

Where the nave comes to an end. 


The young monk kneels in prostration

Concentrated, and with stern affirmation

He salutes Creator of earth and all the heavens. 


The young monk approaches the lectern

Reading, he fears nothing but goodness in the Lord

For, “the eternal light and my life is in God”.


The young monk speaks of St. John the Baptist

His buried head in the tomb, placed upon a dish   

And giving thanks, he casts forth a desirous wish. 


The young monk desires it to be true

Closing the book, he prepares what is due

At the sign of the cross taking his cue. 


The young monk awaits with expectation

The great coming of all the nations

Through Christ, Redeemer and our Salvation.


The young monk stirs at the altar

Eyes below and neck craned to the floor

The Eucharist gifts on him are restored. 


The young monk and his fellow brethren

In cheerful tune, and peaceful procession

Joy abounding from the inaugural passion

Return to the cloister, mercy within

Free from Sin.