Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Life always looks better
    with laughter and humour
    reason stands in the way of such
    it's too stern and breaks asunder-

    every day there's room
   for gaiety and lightheartedness
   why knock on the door of philosophy
   and court doubt and restlessness?
 Dec 2024 Lizzie Bevis
Mark Bell
I met a budgie
High on a perch
I asked where
You going
What do you
Search,
I flew out the
Window now I’m
Free
So I ate the budgie
It was
Fine by me,
Freedom is dangerous
You must have rules
I think this meal
was a stupid fool.
Dear Irene

This is my third year at the monastery. Excuse me for being tardy in writing--I hardly have any spare time.  Monastic life calls for the utmost discipline as we monks live communally-- prayers, tending to the the garden which provides us with some of the food we need,  listening to the instruction of the elders,  helping to keep the monastery and its compounds clean,  talking to  and advising parishers, visiting the sick, doing charity rounds, educating the novices,  working in the kitchen and cleaning up, praying at vespers and retiring sharping at 9 pm, waking at 5 a.m. the next day.

It was very hard for me to get used to this routine during my first six months here, but with patience, encouragement of the elders and divine grace,  I was able to settle in quite well---it's no longer regimentation but living a life of devotion, obedience sacrifice and selflessness.

You asked me once whether I was happy as I had given up the world. I can honestly say that I have found peace, contentment and joy in my priesthood.  I didn't come here to run away from life but to understand myself and to seek meaning and purpose.  In this state of grace,  I have been able to discard all that which reduces my humanity and  discover that I have drawn closer for the first time to loving my fellow-beings. It is as though I have lost myself in being at one with others and life at large ,  as well as the universe.  It is hard for people who live in the outside world to understand the transcendental dimension of a spiritual life.  Yes, we monks have to die to find the way to live---in giving up our ego liberates us from earthly attachments-- the spirit is infinitely more important than the body.  

Everything of the earthly life perishes---knowledge, wisdom success, fame, wealth, status, influence, even  beauty, love, kinship and friendship.  But the religious life transcends all these as we are lifted to a higher dimension beyond comprehension.

We have loved each other once and my decision to become a monk I know has broken your heart.  I do ask for your forgiveness and will pray that love will somehow come your way.  You must think of yourself and your future happiness and try to erase me from your memory.  You will always have a sacred place in my heart though I cannot share my life with you.

Yours truly

John  

Life outside
The heart that's broken
can be mended
but it won't be the same
and can't be perfected-

true love is sacred
it knows no uneven edge
to blemish it is a grievous mistake
making it work again has no cause to celebrate
 Dec 2024 Lizzie Bevis
dead poet
self-deception gets
stronger, as i get older -
not any better.
 Dec 2024 Lizzie Bevis
Liana
I would give him a piece of my mind
Scream
Tell him how every single problem I have is his fault
But even then
He wouldn't get it

He'd say I'm crazy
That I'm young
That my mom got in my head
When she's the one who says not to argue
He doesn't understand that I still have feelings
And opinions
And that they come from me

He sends me a message
I want to respond
"*******"
I even typed it out
But don't send it

He would go insane
And my mom would suffer from that
So I just say
"Okay"

Bite my tongue
Be grateful it's not worse
Take the manipulations
But make sure to record it for later
So I can recognize them

I might love him
To some extent
He is my father after all
But I can't remember a time
When I had liked him
As a parent
Or a person

I don't say any of it
Hope you can't relate :)

(This note was written by that kids show backpack that instead of holding a map in it held all of the hopes and dreams of children that school slowly crushed)
 Dec 2024 Lizzie Bevis
Mark Bell
Bonsai Japanese
Tiny small wood shrubbery
Seventeen potted.

Happy mountain high
Thermals eagles flying sky
Glistening blue tarn.

Meadow pipet wing
Rhythm bluebells joyous sing
Deers aloof feasting.
Next page