November verse 9, 2024, and the pope

In July this year, Pope Francis issued a letter on ‘the role of literature in formation’ (you can read the whole letter here). He recommends that people in general, and especially people training to be priests, read poetry and novels. I love it that he has written things like this:

Reading, as an act of ‘discernment’, directly involves the reader as both the ‘subject’ who reads and as the ‘object’ of what is being read. In reading a novel or a work of poetry, the reader actually experiences ‘being read’ by the words that he or she is reading. 

I found an opening line for a November stanza in paragraph 27 where he quotes St Ignatius’ description of ‘desolation’, a condition Francis says can be induced by some literature. The quote from Ignatius goes like this, with my chosen iambic tetrameter in purple):

I call desolation darkness of the soul, turmoil of spirit, inclination to what is low and earthly, restlessness rising from many disturbances and temptations which lead to want of faith, want of hope, want of love. The soul is wholly slothful, tepid, sad, and separated, as it were, from its Creator and Lord

Here goes, with what turned out to be a not-quite-autobiographical reflection on ageing:

Verse 9: The soul is wholly slothful, tepid
The soul is wholly slothful, tepid,
not quite lost in darkest night
but stuck at dusk. All seems insipid,
flavourless, not worth the fight.
You’d rather watch some ancient Vera,
cheer for Marvel’s latest hero, 
play sudoku, crossword, scroll – 
a dreary arvo of the soul.
Where’s the rise, the roll, the carol,
the dance, the dive, the tumbling glee
that once enlivened you and me?
Let's find again the thrill of peril,
take a stand and make a fuss –
let's talk to strangers on the bus.