A Winters GoodnightSister Rose Boyle OP
From the dim, yellowish light of my bedroom,
I watch in wonder the late evening sky.
It had been a winter’s day of great beauty,
with a rare, pure blue sky.
As I walked to church,
the pavements glittered with ice and frost.
Last night’s left over rain
had puddled the streets,
leaving pavements covered with cracked sheets of ice.
As this day closes, and night falls,
I sit and watch the majestic neighbour’s tree.
It is magnificently silhouetted against a fading blue backdrop,
winter’s gift to a cold December night.
Thousands of wisp-like branches,
delicate as a spider’s web,
dance in the wind across the horizon.
whilst strong, supple branches, blown by the wind,
bend, bowing beneath the night sky,
whispering goodnight to the world’s Creator.