Tolling Bells Ringing out

Silent Prayers offered up

Pale beads cascading down

Brilliant minds cloistered in

-

The Ripened Day falls quickly

Taking brilliant warmth and delicious light

Leaving behind cold bitter regrets

Life always ends and begins anew

-

Another shadowed night, another senseless task

Waves of hallowed ritual pour

Slaves of fleeting whims scour

Life pushes in a condescending circle

-

Up the gnarled-twisting stones

Around the web-covered walls

Through the warped-tunneled doors

The Destination shrouds in the murky dusk

-

Yonder through the traveler’s door

Past creaking frames of painted souls

Gripping the etched winding- steps

Towards the awaited task He travels

-

Opaline sodden sweat drops fall

Accompanied with breathless gasps

He touches the oiled pillar

And Beholds the Sacred Archway

-

Narrow walks crowded with wooden rafters

Dust and webs consume the Attic of Rituals

Dim specks of light reflect from the holy beings

Beautiful Holy Bells

-

No grievous chore more precious than this!

His Hands made for parchment

But privilege alone

Brings Him lonely smiles of contentment

-

Gentle caressing hands

Pull the bloody knotted ropes

Jubilant Tears fall through duteous pain

O, Honored awakener of the Silvery Bells

-

Three holy bells hang

Shining with silvery might

First in the row, is the wise elderly Grey

Ringing with his deep throaty song

Second is the proud voluptuous Beauty

Holding her song with pride

The last in row, and by far the smallest in tow,

Is the springy Youth

She, poor dear, whistles so much out of tune

All of them sigh with lovely sky-scraping cries to the Lord on high

-

At last his tortures here are done

Now He may go below

No longer special or proud, he leaves

To join the work in the throng

-

Away he travels down

It’s so much easier now

Away into the sharp gaze

Of God and his favorites

-

As he reaches the last step

There before his envious-eyes

Is the great Monk!

Leading with pride

The Precession of Saints

-

He frowns deep inside

At this man with so much pride

How He would love to hurt

The Great Monk with his disgusting smirk

-

He grinds his little teeth

And furrows his bushy brows

There is no chance in Heaven

That God favors this Monster

-

He prays to God then

Even in Sin

A promise on a whim

If only he can be better then him!

-

Alone in his cell that night

He cries quietly in pain

Ashamed of his Sin

Someone heard him lamenting

And told the higher men

-

They confronted him that night

All alone in his dark cell

He was cornered and judged

With slight persuasions

They laid bare his soul

-

With cruel hands, and pure ways

They lightened his heavy heart

His tender small steps

Marked him red

For all can now see his grave jealous sin

-

Domine, Non Sum Dignus

He cries out

Who could have known the seed in his heart?

Who would have told?

Only One would have known

And He would not have told

-

Laid out stiff in his divan

The Monk rises up

He draws a smile

And picks up the Book

-

Reading his prayers of the day

He looks up to heaven’s grace

Outward far and wide he gazes

And hears the most Heavenly light

-

Tolling Bells Ringing out

Silent Prayers offered up

Pale beads cascading down

Brilliant minds cloistered in