The Monks of St. John's

The Monks of St. John's File in for Prayer

In we shuffle, hooded amplitudes, scapulared brooms,
a stray earring, skin-heads and flowing locks,
blind in one eye, hooked-nosed, handsome as a
prince (and knows it), a five-thumbed organist,
an acolyte who sings in quarter tones, one slightly
swollen keeper of the bees, the carpenter minus a
finger here and there, our pre-senile writing deathless
verse, a stranded sailor, a Cassian scholar,
the artist suffering the visually illiterate and indignities
unnamed, two determined liturgists.
In a word, eager purity and weary virtue.
Last of all, the Lord Abbot, early old (shepherding the saints is like herding cats).
These chariots and steeds of Israel make a
black progress into church.
A rumble of monks bows low and offers praise
to the High God of Gods who is faithful forever.

--Kilian McDonnell