Poem for the Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity

Let Evening Come

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.

Jane Kenyon

The poet sits still, just letting things happen, as the movement of the sunlight passes
over familiar things at the close of day. We may be approaching some momentous
change, (a change of circumstances, illness, loss, death even) and this poem can help
us pray to do this with serenity – giving up striving and the need to control.
The last verse has an echo of John 14:18 I will not leave you comfortless. I am coming
to you. So whatever it is that is coming, finally it’s alright to let evening come.

Tina Lamb