Summer at the Monastery

In the hush of ancient stone,
Summer spills its golden light,
A monastery, cloistered, alone—
Breathes peace from day to night.
Roses climb the weathered wall,
Lavender scents the silent air,
Cicadas chant their evening call,
Time kneels softly in prayer.
Sisters pass beneath the trees,
Sandaled feet on gravel sound,
Their voices, carried on the breeze,
Are gentle hymns the heart has found.
Sunbeams pool in chapel pews,
Warmth on wood and folded hands,
Reflections deep as morning dews
Unfold in contemplative lands.
At dusk, the bell’s slow tolling rings—
A summons to tranquil repose,
While summer, in golden offerings,
Lights every soul that knows.