Outside the
Shadowed stone arch
Bright sunlight shines
Casting life
Into the room within.
The room
Where I sit.
Sandaled feet gently resting
On the concrete
Beneath.
My black robe
Softly grazing
The granite
As I breathe.
Inside this room
This tomb
Filled with caskets
And skeletons
Standing freely
Heads hanging down
As if they’re praying
Or penitent.
They are clothed;
Some cloaked
Hooded.
All with what
Was their name
Attached some way.
As if their name
Means anything today.
Is my ancestor
In this room?
Was I born
Of his seed
Or her womb?
Inspired by an old black & white picture posted on National Geographic’s website of a darkly bearded monk sitting in the Covento dei Cappuccini, a church in Palermo, Sicily.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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A very artistic approach to that muches the prompt very well. I like random thoughts and images that compose this poem. Most of all I enjoyed the end part which parts the reader with the mystery of it all
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