Domus Domini

At Saint Germain D'Auxerrois

Boys' sexless voices fluttered and were wreathed,

Shrill and thin,

Round pulsating pyramids of candles

Ablaze.

Easter. The gold-emblazoned backs

Of priests in chasubles-

Bowing embroidered backs in threes

On the altar-steps;

And censers gasping smoke

At liturgies in folio.

Then a voice, fiercely exultant,

A piercing jarring voice,

Cracking through the shudder and hum of the organ:

" Exultat, domine, cor meum!"

I was shaken-

Agnostic me shaken,

Taken on my weak side.

The columns trembled like living things,

Swaying upward.

The roof rustled;

While high, high up,

A cry bruised the hooks of its skinny wings,

And my heart shook in the candles.

And I wanted to throw myself

Flat on my face,

Flat and hard on my face on the floor-

To be exorcised,

To be forgiven,

To be burned alive to a crisp

In the rush and flame of angels.