Last night,
as we
slept,
the first flakes
fell;
unseen as angels.
In darkness
we rose,
noticing the
new nip
at sandaled
toes,
the Autumnal air
now
waking us
with
first tender
touch
of Winter’s sharp
edge.
Kindling candles
we sat in
stillness,
breathing presence
until,
looming out
of
first light,
the carrot cake
red
brackened hills
around
us
revealed
their
cold caster sugar
frosting
and
summoned us to
praise.
This evening
as
dusk descended
we gathered,
again
and
as always,
settling into
choir
like crows
crowding close
upon the
bare branches
outside;
our
breath and
being
becoming
one
until
cawing mind
quiets,
and we
friars,
faith feathered
and
settling
into stillness,
like Crow’s old
black robe,
fade
into
Divine dark
once
again.
—
By Brother Richard OFM