Alas. . .

I'm the queen of lock-up, At least for a few months. Like Merton's firewalk-- Quiet time, alone time, Quite nice time. Apple, bread and banana-- Broke some rule, I suppose, But then and then and then-- Pen flows awfully nicely As I feel the quiver of evening, The Grand Silence of Zen-- "Thundering, thundering, louder than before;" "Music Man" trombones echo in Sweet delight As I'm pulled into the deep of all deeps. I live in a quasi-monastic community, and I have been the nightly lock-up person for almost a year.