Caravaggio’s Saint Jerome Writing - Jack Stewart

Caravaggio has put him inside at a table,
But I prefer him in a cave
With bible and papers spread out on
Something he had to make for himself.
The halo provides only slight warmth
On his bald scalp, and shadows frustrate him,
His own silhouette looking over his shoulder
And darkening the page exactly
Where he is reading or writing.
The candle is often agitated.
The skull does not have a lower jaw;
Its sockets tease at eternity.
 
At night, he tries to imagine
The constellations rearranged into
Stories that more willingly melt into
God’s voice. He falls asleep listening
To the lion muttering. Dead leaves are
A scented and softening bed.
The Greek letters he loves
Hang from the roof of the skull’s mouth like bats.