Matins

Matins

Jeffrey Essmann

The underlying purity of things;
The texture that the senses cannot touch;
The inner sigh that of a sudden sings
As all that is goes full and overmuch;
And even eyes wide open cannot clutch
The clearer light that nearer light subsumes,
And bathing all the sorry world as such,
Its shadows deep in lambency entombs.
And foolhardy it would be to presume
That answer to petition here befit.
The human soul can only know such bloom
When God with grace it deftly interknits.
Be mindful, then, as you your prayer uplift:
You’re dealing with someone who knows no thrift.

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Jeffrey Essmann
Poet & Oblate

Jeffrey is an essayist and poet living in New York. His poetry has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, among them Dappled Things, the St. Austin Review, the Society of Classical Poets, The Chained Muse, The Road Not Taken, Agape Review, America Magazine, U.S. Catholic, Grand Little Things, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, Edge of Faith, Pensive, and various venues of the Benedictine monastery with which he is an oblate. He is editor of the Catholic Poetry Room page on the Integrated Catholic Life website.

Photography by Pascal Bronsert