
by Brandon Beck
This is Cyrus Cassells. He is a poet, an actor, a cultural critic, and a professor. He earned the Jackson Poetry Prize and the Lambda Literary Award; a Guggenheim Fellowship and a Pushcart Prize; the William Carlos Williams Award, a Lannan Literary Award, a nomination for a Pulitzer Prize, and was a finalist for the NAACP Image Award. He has ten books of poetry published, two books of original translations of Catalan poetry published, and a plethora of articles of cultural criticism especially in the genre of film studies. His upcoming publications include two novels, one about a fictional Harlem Renaissance poet and another an historical fiction based on the life of St. Damien and the colony for victims of Hansen’s disease he served in Hawaii.

Cyrus Cassells strives for justice and peace among all people, respecting the dignity of all human beings through his poetry. One of his earliest poems, “Soul Make a Path Through Shouting,” tells the story of Elizabeth Eckford, the young girl who bravely, symbolically integrated public schools in Arkansas in 1957. His translations of the poems of Francesc Parcerisas strive to preserve and amplify the Catalan language. Poems from his collection Beautiful Signor explore the beauty of gay love. His experimental collection The Crossed-Out Swastika is research-based poetry telling the stories of young people facing the terror of World War II, and The World that the Shooter Left Us provides powerful commentary on violence in contemporary America.
When I pray Compline (Book of Common Prayer, p. 127) and repeat the Antiphon —
Guide us waking, O Lord, and guard us sleeping;
that awake we may watch with Christ, and asleep we may rest in peace.—
God brings many associations to me, especially ways that God is creating justice for me and for people like me in God’s world. Tonight, as I repeated this Antiphon, Cyrus Cassells came to mind. Cyrus Cassells’ poetry guides me waking and guards me sleeping as I watch with Christ for justice and peace in this world.
In 2019, Cyrus published a short collection of poetry he wrote while staying at Christ in the Desert Monastery for a writing residency. He took the title of his collection from Psalm 130:5-6:
I wait for the Lord; my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than those who watch for the morning,
more than those who watch for the morning.
In the poem with the same title as the collection, “More than Watchmen at Daybreak,” Cyrus says,
I’m thirsty, fallible,
Incensed and restive in this desert monastery,
But not yet resigned,
Full of questions and parrying
From wolf’s hour to blue hour
To burgeoning dawn —
He is the “watchman” from Psalm 130 in today’s political and social climate. The watchman of Psalm 130 is not unlike the oracle the prophet Habakkuk saw, who, in Chapter 1, as read on Proper 26, Year C, Track 1, Sunday November 2, 2025, cries out:
O Lord, how long shall I cry for help,
and you will not listen?
Or cry to you “Violence!”
and you will not save?
That Psalm 130 watchman, that Habakkuk oracle, Cyrus in the desert today, me praying Compline now — we are all “not yet resigned.” We are all willing to strive for justice and peace among all people because, as Cyrus says in his poem,
the soul says,
Yes, I was there.
I was there, just as the watchman was, when she looked out of the monastery to cry to the monks, “The sun is up; it is time to pray.” I was there, just as the watchman was, when she looked out of the military fortification and shouted to those she protected, “They attack! To arms!” I was there, just as the watchman was, when he awoke from accidentally falling asleep, and cried, “Jesus! You are betrayed!” I was there, just as the watchman was, when we all knelt together and prayed:
O God our Father, whose Son forgave his enemies while he
was suffering shame and death: Strengthen those who suffer
for the sake of conscience; when they are accused, save them
from speaking in hate; when they are rejected, save them
from bitterness; when they are imprisoned, save them from
despair; and to us your servants, give grace to respect their
witness and to discern the truth, that our society may be
cleansed and strengthened. This we ask for the sake of Jesus
Christ, our merciful and righteous Judge. Amen. (BCP, 823)
and
Grant, O God, that your holy and life-giving Spirit may so
move every human heart [and especially the hearts of the
people of this land], that barriers which divide us may
crumble, suspicions disappear, and hatreds cease; that our
divisions being healed, we may live in justice and peace;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (BCP, 823)
Here’s the story. It’s about a mother and her nine-year-old daughter. Where is justice in it?