last duty done
temple lights dimmed
dark
robes tumble off
tired monk slides into bed
slow and silent
as the abbess sleeps
post dreams
pre dawn
pre light
the tired monk wakes
reaches blindly
for those tumbled robes
tosses them over
his cold bald head
starts the kitchen fires
Love the "temple-tumble-toss" effect. You say it all here.
ReplyDeleteMissed your earlier music video over the holidays, but I caught up on it the other day. Righteous!
awww. don't forget your slippers, the floor's chilly.
ReplyDeleteOh, I so hear you, Ollie. Never enough hours in between the offing and the donning of the robes! This winter, I mutiny and sometimes stay in fleece all day.
ReplyDeleteA life in the day (and night). The monk's adventures are an inspiration to us all:-)
ReplyDeletesometimes (and i know this is wrong) the waking seems so damned monotonous and repetitious...but the abbess by your side must make it other, as when my monk is by my side it is other:)))
ReplyDeletetell me tell me tell me you heat with wood. (i miss it terribly))
xo
erin
I do not envy The Tired Monk in his morning requirement to start the kitchen fires...
ReplyDeleteLove your stories of him though and they are indeed inspirational.
Anna :o]
And so the days run away...
ReplyDeleteAnd alas, the nights are short for the tired monk!! And the duties are many.
ReplyDeletelove the effect of the alliteration in this - the post dream pre-dawn section is especially strong for me - both calm and yet with a sense of momentum. Great write.
ReplyDeleteHopes he makes himself a cup of tea first. [And then neatly washes up the cup of course:-)]
ReplyDeleteLove the idea of the kitchen fires, everyone drawn to the warmth, and how it becomes the heart of the home.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2009/05/18/words-are-magic/
Glad to be back and reading about the life of the monk. How his duties never end, stirring out of his sleep.
ReplyDeleteAh, we go on. Enjoyed this.
ReplyDeleteAnother day, another night, and thus a life is made. Thank goodness for those who fill the hours alongside us.
ReplyDeleteAnd so it goes, for monks and everyone who has to face the routine of living.
ReplyDeleteI love the Tired Monk's poems so much, cant start MY day without one!
ReplyDeleteNon nobis Domine.
ReplyDeleteI feel your spirit in this one, feel the fire, keep it lit.
ReplyDeleteContinuum of tumbled robes, effectively realized.
ReplyDeleteHey it's my first time here. I could actually imagine this. I like the way you describe the robes tumbling off. You are probably the first funky monk I have encountered. :)
ReplyDeleteYou paint a great picture!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful is the word. Vivid.
ReplyDelete