It is such a beautiful night outside the bedroom window, the familiar sounds of traffic hissing nearby and the occasional call of a night bird mingling with the happy sounds of whirring air conditioners and lawn sprinklers – I mean, does it get any better than this? While I intended to write about the controversial (and ultimately self-destructive) measures enacted at both the Episcopal Church and the Presbyterian Church USA conventions this week, my heart just isn’t into it – a prayer to the Blessed Virgin for inner peace, tranquility and direction seems sufficient enough for now – besides, they’ll be plenty of time for that next week once the dust settles and I’m back in Phoenix.

For now, the beauty and joy of this evening seems to call for some poetry, and this one courtesy of Opossum Sally seems to fit perfectly the quiet joy and longing that resides in my heart at this hour:

There, through the long, long summer hours,

The golden light should lie,

And thick young herbs and groups of flowers

Stand in their beauty by,

The oriole should build and tell

His love-tale close beside my cell;

The idle butterfly

Should rest him there, and there be heard

The house-wife bee and humming bird.

And what, if cheerful shouts, at noon,

Come from the village sent,

Or songs of maids, beneath the moon,

With fairy laughter blent?

And what if, in the evening light,

Betrothed lovers walk in sight

Of my low monument?

I would the lovely scene around

Might know no sadder sight or sound.

I know, I know I should not see

The season’s glorious show,

Nor would its brightness shine for me,

Nor its wild music flow;

But if, around my place of sleep,

The friends I love should come to weep,

They might not haste to go.

Soft airs, and song, and light, and bloom

Should keep them lingering by my tomb.

These to their softened hearts should bear

The thought of what has been,

And speak of one who cannot share

The gladness of the scene;

Whose part in all the pomp that fills

The circuit of the summer hills,

Is, that his grave is green;

And deeply would their hearts rejoice

To hear again his living voice.

On this night may you too feel all the longing, peace, and joy that only a warm mid-summer’s night can bring.