Apostasy

I returned to my old hunting grounds
to find that most buildings had altered,
but the Norman cathedral still stood,
impervious to the wind of change.
Perhaps it was looking worse for wear,
with the weather having taken its toll:
the brittle bricks in need of some repair
and its right wall covered in vegetation.
I had always admired its architecture,
the marble statues and the paintings;
I can recall every inch of the interior:
the aisles, the nave, the transept, the altar.
The monks’ dormitory and the cloisters
had been part of my earlier life, religion
having formed the rock of my vocation.
I was expected to be pious and humble,
to imbue myself in sanctity and purity
yet that foundation stone soon crumbled.
If asked, I cannot pinpoint the moment
when faith vanished and doubts crept in.
It was a gradual, painful, metamorphosis;
I underwent a complete transformation
from an ascetic soul to a freethinker.
I am often accused of wearing blinkers
for not seeing that I simply exchanged
one set of strict beliefs for another.

© Luigi Pagano 2009