My fellow Inkling (writing group) poet-teacher Molly Hogan went on a fabulous trip to Croatia, Slovenia, and Ireland. She blessed me and all her Facebook friends with lots of amazing photos. I was compelled by this photo. It takes me back to my favorite musical of all time, The Sound of Music. It also reminds me of a kind monk I knew growing up. He was my father’s best friend. His Benedictine name was Brother Anselm. He was witty and wise and an incredible organist.
My poem is a narrative free verse. I wanted to tell a story. I have fond memories of visiting Bill (Brother Anselm) at his monastery in St. Benedict, Louisiana.
Consider writing with me today. Leave a small poem in the comments. Remember this is a drafting space, so kindly write encouraging responses to other writers.
Brother Anselm
Walking into the woods
surrounding the Abbey,
Brother Anselm and I spoke freely.
Our walk was a prayer.We talked of nothing in particular
as his brown robes swished and swayed,
a comforting blanket of humble access
to a stream of still water.He reminded me that the holy
is not always quiet. Our voices
echoed among the tall pines,
laughter shaking the ground.He told me that time was our friend.
Use it wisely and with intention.
Bless the forest with reverent presence
and God will grant you peace.Margaret Simon, draft
Reflections on the Teche 