The light of late afternoon

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

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4 Comments

  1. Posted November 16, 2012 at 10:36 am | Permalink

    One of my all time favorite poems. I met Jane, through Don, and have always felt a deep connection to her work. Loved reading this this morning.

  2. Posted November 16, 2012 at 10:45 am | Permalink

    She is my favorite, favorite, favorite. In awe that Katrina met her. A boyfriend once sent me a poem of hers, saying it reminded him of me. I have never been so flattered in my life. Her sense of the world was/is so moving….

  3. Posted November 16, 2012 at 11:50 am | Permalink

    Lindsey and Katrina,
    It’s one of my most favorite poems as well, because I’ve seen this lighting in our barn, taken pictures of it and feel the reconciliation that Jane must have been experiencing when she wrote it, resolving to let God care for her in her dying. Katrina, your book, which I’ve so appreciated over the last year, illustrates this kind of comforting peace. Emily

  4. Posted November 25, 2012 at 7:29 pm | Permalink

    Such comfort and beauty. Thanks Lindsey.