Evening breeze

​The evening breeze through the window,
As I look back into the low
Tree dancing to the silent play
Of clouds and moon, and hue of gray;
Pale blackness on the deep'ning sky,
Its shades of dark made beautiful
By lack of light, absence of ray,
When silence ends a Maker’s day--
Empty'ng beauty. Bending echo
Of weathered creation outgrows
The night. Then, a low distant cry
Striates hist'ry. Lost in time full
Laces of blue displayed his rule,
While the trees sing its Lullaby.

--
Yannick Imbert teaches theology in southern France at Faculté Jean Calvin. He is a Tolkien scholar and publishes books and articles at the intersection of theology and culture. He has also published online in Transpositions, Ekstasis, Macrina, Inklings Studies and other theological journals. He writes in French at delagracedansencrier.com.