This week’s poem in the Catholic Poetry Room is by Johanna Caton.                                                                                                                                                      


Your name –
floating on the now
of my final breath.

Your power –
the power of your woman’s arms,
pillowing my soul home.

Your stillness –
when, all masks aside,
I touch love’s unmasked face.

I revere
for bearing what I’ve not strength to hold,

for pouring
past the edge of earth’s
blue sphere, surprising gravest laws,

even grace. Only
Gabriel knew before he even spoke to you,

in the line
of your head, the lift
of your eyes to him, their knowing gaze.

Johanna Caton, O.S.B., is a Benedictine nun from Minster Abbey in Kent, England. Born in Virginia, she lived in the United States until adulthood, when her monastic vocation took her to England. She writes poetry as a means of understanding the work of God in her life, whose purposes and presence can be elusive until viewed through the more accommodating lens of art and poetry. Her poetry has appeared, or will appear in Green Hills Literary Lantern, Time of Singing Christian Poetry Journal, The Christian Century, Amethyst Review, and other venues. She is a 2020 Pushcart Prize nominee.

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