Nuns and Chocolate

a poem

Nuns and Chocolate

At six months pregnant, all I want
for Mother’s Day is one night at the
local, Benedictine monastery. 

I find my small, modest room 
and immediately blast the AC, 
then get under the covers and eat
a bar of chocolate in bed, like
all nuns probably do from time to
time. And why not? Isn’t God in
the sweetness as well as the structure
of worship? Of life? I have plans 
to read and write and create but, 
all I want, if I am honest with my 
body and spirit is a long, long nap. 
One of the Sisters told me at dinner: 
“That is worship, too.” 

And so, I might skip morning prayer
and rest in the kindness of God by
snoozing my alarm and turning my 
head back to the pillow, uttering an
an ancient Psalm: 

He giveth his beloved sleep

Then, as only a bold and reckless 
Baptist would, I might add:

And chocolate.