SEMINARIAN

SEMINARIAN


A sanctuary, this studied room –
a sacred place without divinity.

Here, he first began to scour
the weed-strewn paving of his mind –
thought-loads of words strove to devour
his piety.

The books, which thronged
his living space, provided sustenance –
a new found grace.

Alone,
a hermit walled in by abstractions,
striving to fill a god-shaped absence
with well-honed words.

Roomed in his study, studying his mind,
vacuity – that most tenacious weed –
has left him blind.


Malcolm Evison