Andalusia

Miss Mary Flannery takes up her crutches,
walks with difficulty out the door,
and stands on the steps, her face set
in hospitable welcome.
Up the yard walks a priest,
a monk, a writer, a mystic,
all in one smiling man.
He stops for a moment to admire
the peacock displaying its tail
for the visitor's view.
So much beauty in a bird.
Merton laughs at its self-regard
and turns to face Flannery,
meeting at last, so much to say,
here in heaven's Andalusia.

She says, "come in, father,"
and he says, "call me Tom."
They go inside,
sit on the cozy couch
in Regina's living room,
and are silent for a moment.

He says, "your stories
operate for me
on the level of spirit."
She says, "your books
do the same for me."
They sit in silence again.

He asks for a beer.
They speak of peacocks
and mystery and manners,
of the life of the soul
and the heart of the world.
They both know
what matters most.