Vespers at Dusk
By Abbot Bishop Brian Ernest Brown, CWC
The day releases its labor,
kneeling in rose and ashen grace
into the waiting dark.
Branches lift their thin hands
silent cantors lifting prayers
upon the dimming sky.
The wind whispers the ancient office,
and every leaf, though fallen,
keeps the chant of praise.
Here, all striving ceases.
The heart bows low,
its pulse joining the rhythm
of the world at rest.
O Light that lingers when all fades,
receive this quiet hour
our breath, our stillness,
our surrender.