Cloister Closure
- James Tunney
- Jun 26
- 1 min read
Updated: Jul 6
Slight tinge of yellow over evening horizon
At the lake I reflected like the surface and sky
Cloudshadow through the reeds where tadpoles writhe.
A caesura in God’s rhythm, bright sunny interlude
In postulant’s prelude in foothills of Mt. Carmel.
A cool breeze teases the brown robes
Of the inhabited pilgrim like Elijah heard speak
And green field flat reflects the immanent glory
To be left behind.
Cultural claustrophobia banished for a new hymn
Extinguishing attachments for antiphons and vespers
Salve Reginas, Te Deums, new overtures.
Veil of the holy of holies
Descends with God’ will
Behind grilles the girls go
To nourish the heart
That needs flowers in the hair
For a greater reason
Than going to San Francisco.
For another golden gate
They give up their play
As they skip a beat for the sudden grace
Or slow polishing of the mind’s floor
Burnishing by prayer
To overcome many dark nights
Beyond simple delights
You feel in your guts instead
The good of God, Gott gotten
Furnished with much space
For the higher to receive
And this is a closure
Of a type of dream recalled
To new candles burning
Not to be forgotten
Away from the garish
New drills for old.
Girls, grills, grail
Edith Stein on the rails
Teresa of Avila and Little Flower
Holy child go above Babel’s Tower
In the one true tongue
Heart heavenward can utter
Through the early mutterings
And the mind’s stutter
Behind the shutters
Our hearts fluttered
With fear and hope
Like the 16 on the way
To their Calvary
Beyond man’s machines
That love death more
Than life’s flourishing
And celestial symphony.