In a Little Spanish Town I Google Father Louis

Tonight, Father Louis, I summon you up
on my computer screen; I kiss my forefinger

touch to the Apple logo, I press it to the eye
in the centre of your high forehead.

I scroll to your prayer, which begins:
My Lord God I have no idea where I am going.

This written after decades spent journeying
in your hermitage, you said you didn't know

where you were going, could not see the road
ahead. But then you said you did know;

you desired to do what would most please
the Beloved. Right intention would lead

to right path, though when you wrote that
you feared yourself lost in the valley.

In the valley of the shadow, the dark
and dreadful, valley of the shadow of death.