My daughter didn’t tell me right away.
The morning came. Our chores had to be done.
But Mary, even working, seemed so grave,
so still: she seemed to hear something—some one.
I listened and another silence filled
the room. Make no mistake. it did not seem
to fill: it filled the room, the house and still
it spread, amid the tasks of bread to knead
and hens to feed and flax to spin. Her face—
her face a wonder: pale and blessed and inward.
When she thought I’d gone she paused and placed
one hand upon her heart. And then I heard
a tiny drum-beat, saw: a bird had dropped.
It panted, panted; then, its heartbeat stopped.
Originally appeared on the Catholic Literary Arts website as Third Prize Winner in the 2024 Advent Poetry Contest.
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.