It has been one of those quiet, hidden days,
Like the wind brushing past dark cypresses as they sway;
Or the murmur of a shell, pressed close to the ear,
Which only the keenest perception can hear.
(“It is I, do not fear.”)
I have flitted through this dusk of a day,
A moth in dim air,
Or as shadows of leaves tapping at my windowpane.
Known only to him who has passed it with me.
Traversing the cloisters alone,
“It is Myself, how can you be afraid?”

-Sister Mary Agnes, Order of Poor Clares



Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Cloisters

  1. Sarah, I love to read the poems you post. There is a very small group of us that post poems every Weds. There are only about 5 or 6 of us but I look forward to sharing a poem and reading the other selections every week. Pausing to drink in the beauty of the words. You can see the link at my blog. I will see you next weekend in Michigan!

  2. Is someone feeling a call from GOD to join a religious community of some sort?

    That is what I am sensing!

    If you like the Anglican liturgy, there are religious communities in the Anglican faith. I myself sometimes feel drawn to the Benedictine ways, as does my husband.

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