The Cloistered Way
She enters through the convent door,
To seek what life could not restore.
The outer world dissolves in peace,
In vows that ask the mind to cease.
But silence doesn’t close the soul—
It simply makes the silence whole.
Above, below, they almost meet—
These cave-formed limbs of dark retreat.
The stalactite and -mite extend,
As if to touch, as if to mend.
Where growth is slow, and light is thin,
A hidden union stirs within.
