October moon

Awake at the watchman’s hour

to singing outside my bedroom

window.

Nightingales?

I thought we had none.

This night had been consummated

by angels.

I can feel your smirk

your intelligent justification by too much reason.

No, I wasn’t drinking.

Beyond my bedroom

Window two angels came to set me

free

because the sounds they made

was not of this Earth.

The midnight sun came down to Earth

this night and sang me a lullaby.

It was my Monastic call to be.

Before India

 

Before Bede.

And I felt myself being reshaped

into something new.

And the October moon was

smiling as the rest of the

world slept

while I sat and listened to my celestial duet.

Were they nightingales?

Who cares.

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