Showing posts with label Saint Benedict. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Saint Benedict. Show all posts

Sunday, January 31, 2021

A Young Roman Responds to Saint Benedict - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

A Young Roman Responds to Saint Benedict

 

“We are about to open a school for God’s service…”

 

-Rule, St. Benedict

 

Okay, but what about your S.T.E.M. offerings?

Does your footer pitch have artificial turf?

The books are too heavy - I have a note

My feelings are covered by the ADA

 

Silence? But I gotta have my tunes, man!

“Correction of Youths?” My mummy will sue!

“Daily manual labor” – may I be excused?

“No talk after Compline” – But can I text?

 

OMG OMG nonononono OMG, no?

 

Not for me, dude; and this I’ve got to say:

I know that your program’s famously prestigious

But I am, like, spiritual, not religious

And, hey, you know, you’re just not Harvard, okay?

Sunday, October 27, 2019

A Promise Made in the Name of the Saints - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

A Promise Made in the Name of the Saints

For Brother Columba and Brother Joseph, O.S.B.

“He will make his promise in the name of the saints
whose relics lie there, and to the abbot.”

-Rule of Saint Benedict, Chapter 59

Some men could swim across the Hellespont
Or walk poor Keats’ dark forest thoughtlessly
Drink deeply from the Castalian font
And through dear Shelley’s moonbeams kiss the sea

Some men could dream across Creation’s arc
With Tennyson beyond the sunset sail
Soar past the solar fields and then embark
To guard with virtue stern the Temple veil

But other men…

But, peace – all Grace in whole, and not in part
Upon the Altar, and within each heart

Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Non Draco Sit Mihi Dux - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

Non Draco Sit Mihi Dux 1

That wicked liar offers us a poisoned cup
In whose sheeny surface we see ourselves
Reflected in his cold imaginings
And not our own, in what we ought to be

There is another Cup for us, not this one
Just as there is a stone that must be moved
A bird of night to be repudiated
A thorny bush that burns, but not itself

A blessing breaks that false and bitter cup -
We share the one that God has lifted up


1 In English, let not the dragon be my guide; it appears on the medal of Saint Benedict as NDSMD.