To love, was to fear, to lust, was to sin
“Life, is a cross, you are born, to bear”
Was, their, faith and fate’s, divine doctrine
Until, they severed, their vow, austere!

What stirred, their souls, in that, shortest tryst
Sans the subtlest, touch, between their skins
A monk, and a nun, in a, hearts’ heist
Learnt, how in fall, sweet spring, begins!

Let’s end, the debate, “You ain’t celibate!”
May the Lord, bless not, who make, mortal love
“After menopause, it’s too, late to create”
“We’re, made, for each other, like a hand, in glove!”

Between, pent pastor, and, a spent sister
Lingered, a lasting, enigma
An old bachelor, found in, spent sister
A solace, worth, its sin’s stigma!

From, a sacrament, to fulfillment
They’ve, at last, redeemed, their, faith’s fief
They resent, their past, nor repent, their present
Who Broke, Old Oath, For A, New Belief!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra