POEM: PRIEST

Priest

In dreams you scream;

a fine sheen

of sweat on your brow.

You wake to fake,

another uptake of sorrow.

Their days, their ways,

what they say

but don’t mean.

Their sins begin;

they seem to win

more and more,

you’ve seen.

You bless their mess.

You try to redress

with pity

their guiles and wiles,

their dark forest smiles.

Fell city.

A birth, a breath;

a coming to earth

with your blessing.

But death, what’s left?

At the Gates, a cleft?

(You’re guessing.)

They need a creed.

All the while you lead,

in a fashion.

You heal to feel

something more real

than passion.

That Book, you took 

it for a brook,

once:

Clear water, smooth stones.

Now more like bones;

your visions of Rome

in absence.

...

Then some change 

to rearrange.

Much is the same.

Yet it's not.

It’s now—somehow—

altered, 

and your vow

seems less fraught.

On a hill, by a mill;

in the air, a trill

like laughter.

And you turn.

You learn:

You needn't sojourn,

hereafter.

I WANTED A POEM ABOUT A PRIEST WHO WASN'T some monster or caricature. I tried to portray someone in the midst of their ‘dark night of the soul’; someone who found themselves going through the motions of spiritual service and clerical outreach, but inside they’re full of doubt about their faith and worth as a person. The priest sees the insincerity of the parishioners and his own insincerity in performing the rituals and rites of his position. 
I worked on this for a while, and I don't know if I like it. I'm not sure what I am trying to get across except for the loss of faith the priest experiences.
For me the last stanza where he undergoes some sort of change when he hears the bird, is more important. Why is that moment a turning point for him? Something in the bird's call causes him to turn. What? "Turn" has a joyful quality, like a dance of some sort. Interestingly, he does not see the bird, there is only a description of it's call being "like laughter." Why laughter? And is it even a bird that is being described?
The priest no longer has to "sojourn,/hereafter", a realization that may have nothing at all to do with his religious beliefs. Or it may have everything to do with them. Good question. 
I like the ambiguity found in the words  "turn" and "hereafter". Turn: turn into something? Turn away? And when is "hereafter"? When does it start? After you're dead? Is it the eternal hereafter? Or does it start earlier? 
Well, I'll let this puppy sit for a while before deciding whether or not to consign it to the hell fires below... 


Cheers