let the wind die down. let the shed go black inside.

[rhapsody_iv]

I get my wisdom teeth out on Friday. Isn't that exciting? I managed to schedule it the one week where choir meets on a Monday instead of Wednesday, so I doubt I'll be doing much in the way of singing, if I ever feel well enough to go to rehearsal.

And now, a bit of culture for your unwashed masses:

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

Ah. It makes be feel much better about spending all day playing Neverwinter Nights. (I finished Chapter 2! Progress, my friends, progress.)