The Monastery

A place hidden deep in unearthly peace
far beyond the borders of a small Texan town,
a monastery sits on the rocky shores
of white-cragged and grassy cliffs
Praying, praying, praying.

Silent monks with long black beards
sad eyes and always smiling,
praying, praying, praying.
They live in spaces with no clocks,
only the shoreline the sun and the moon
receding and circling the brief and endless span of time.
They live in spaces with no sound,
only shallow lapping from the shore, the hot wind
through open sanctuary windows,
the mid-day braying of the goats in the field.

In this place they are calm,
praying, praying, praying
they know no words other than prayer,
they work in secret, they love God
in quiet rooms and before the face
of every slow and red rising dawn,
while praying, praying, praying.