The Poems of 2011: Monks

At the beginning of July I agreed to go on a vocation trip to the Brigittine Monastery in Oregon. I had long felt a desire to give my life to God and it this monastery seemed to be exactly what I was looking for. Still, I had doubt and 'Behind the Wall' was exploratory of that doubt. This poem was also the last I wrote before I decided to become a poet full time. It is also the first poem I wrote that had a definite, predetermined form. (Even thought I botched the form)

Behind the Wall

July 17

I see it rise from o’er the ground, a mist behind the wall.
I live in shadows and in fog. Is light behind the wall?

God kill me now. God take my heart. I have no life below.
My only love and only thought, is lost behind the wall.

A shout from all the world comes clear, “Come live with us and live.”
She whispers low behind it all, “Come die behind the wall.”

The minstrel sings of joy on earth, of women and of lust.
The hooded men sing songs of pain and love behind the wall.

Pax Domini Pax Christi, and with your spirit too.
Pax Domini Pax Christi, true peace behind the wall.

One Hundred Hands shall hold me down- demolishing my soul.
O I will never see my love, my God, behind the wall.