Walking off the ship that brought him along,
the sun is strong, he hasn’t had water in a long –
Time as the clock slows down while it ticks forward,
Another headache, lower back’s screaming from yet another heavy sleep’s bed ache;
Tasked with the duties that God gave him,
Brother Zachariah put on his old robe and prayed again
to his favorite patron saint, Anthony, to pray for him;
Along the S.S. Italopram it’s been a rough trip,
Sea sickness so severe, the young friar wanted to jump ship,
but he’s come a long way since his days in the monastery,
retaining the teachings, and now refraining from reaching
for the devil’s hand as his bare feet presses on the wooded plank beneath him;
Coming off of the vessel he had traveled on for months, he’s on a different island, and,
learning a different dialect,
The friars of his new mission welcome the well-traveled monk, they exchange rosaries and call him “Bro-Zach” for short,
“Lord, I’m trying to do right thing, and play the long game,” is the prayer he recites when he feels out of sorts. – RSM
Rubén Sebastián Muñiz | ∞ 