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To See Susanna Bathing
A soul, less travelled, passed my way
in the Scuola di San Rocco

“You must be tired” I heard it say
in the voice of Tintoretto

“Well yes” said I “but it could be worse”
in the place of words more lusty

“What e'er you seek, 'tis nigh” it spake
in the name of Jacopo Robusti

I asked it “Why do you mean to catechize,
in the way of some fustian dominie?”

And said the soul “'tis not I, 'tis you
in the bloom of Sabbatical satori”

My ears were ringing, then the soul took flight
in the time it took it to utter:

“Though traveled more, are you less content
in the bosom of these halls?”

I wander no more, since receiving this succour
in the place I saw Susanna Bathing

Those days are past - through the doors at last,
in the wellspring of old souls, I stake my home.
Copyright © Ben Kross

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