As twilight slowly steeps blue sky in night
I fall in love again with summer’s way
of gently laying day’s bright tasks aside:
I step into the silent dusk and pray—
the silence speaks of joy, if I can heed;
so, too, the garden’s cooling grey-green fronds,
and fragrant earth and grass—even the weeds
that arch and sway beside the darkening pond.
A red sky soon foretells tomorrow’s sun—
tomorrow, with its rude set of affairs,
but I’m in now-time—privilege freshly won,
from this day’s overbearing hours and cares.
Tomorrow? Let it steep in twilight till
it slowly turns to prayer: silent, still.
Johanna Caton, O.S.B., is a Benedictine nun from Minster Abbey in Kent, England. Born in Virginia, she lived in the United States until adulthood, when her monastic vocation took her to England. She writes poetry as a means of understanding the work of God in her life, whose purposes and presence can be elusive until viewed through the more accommodating lens of art and poetry. Her poetry has appeared or will appear in Green Hills Literary Lantern, Time of Singing Christian Poetry Journal, The Ekphrastic Review, The Christian Century, Amethyst Review and other venues. She is a 2020 Pushcart Prize nominee.