SILENT WITNESS

Arnstein Monastery stands as a silent witness
to the flowing of the Lahn River
and the passing of time.
From its vantage point, it beholds all
human words and deeds,
it beholds the passing of those in power.

Beside the ancient edifice
lies a small graveyard.
The gravestones
are cloaked in mineral deposits and moss.
Sparse details remain regarding the monks and nuns
of the monastery.
Lives lived in quiet self-effacement—
their stories shall never be known to us.
Before the entrance to the monastery church
of St. Mary and St. Nicholas,
an inscription commemorates Abbot Alfons Spix.
He died at the age of 48
in the Dachau “labor camp.”
He had defied the regime’s order
to bar Catholic forced laborers from Poland
from attending Mass.
For does “Catholic” not mean universal—
encompassing all peoples and races?

Today, there are no monks
left in the monastery.

The monastery gazes with ever-growing wonder
upon the river and its valley,
upon the passage of time,
and upon intimations of the future.
Ever more silent,
ever more mute,