A Conversation with T. Merton

 
And as expected, the devil knew and came to practise
Non-violent resistance donning the badge of the pariah
Yet the shining privilege of one who has sold out glint
Not of the pariayar but of the Pharisee's high moral ideal
Where non-violence is craftily employed as moral force
A subtle provocation devised to expose the evil of Other
And the justification of oneself content to prove to those
On each side of the division that one is so right after all
Because the devil has successfully confused symbols
With objects, baffled the Atman with the Reality of fools.

Where truly are the meek, those with the power of poverty
Without strength not out of defeatism or false passivity but
Of the desire to converse and behave not a politeia but
Of love, yes, only love, my spectre, would you have sincerely
Asked and forgiven, would you have wretched the pride out
Of your heart and practised The Art of the Possible and
Beyond it the efficacy of love, the openness to learn about
The heart of your adversary, to hope against all hope, to
Bear and endure everything, to listen with uncalculating
Patience, my beatitude, will you truly embrace no thing?