“In the evening we shall be examined on love.”

-St. John of the Cross 

And it won’t be multiple choice,

Though some of us would prefer it that way.

Neither will it be essay, which tempts us to run on

When we should be sticking to the point, if not altogether.

In the evening there shall be implications

Our fear will change to complications. No cheating,

We’ll be told, and we’ll try to figure out the cost of being true

To ourselves. In the evening when the sky has turned

That certain blue, blue of exam books, blue of no more

Daily evasions, we shall climb the hill as the light empties

And park our tired bodies on a bench above the city

And try to fill in the blanks. And we won’t be tested

Like defendants on trial, cross-examined

Till one of us breaks down, guilty as charged. No,

In the evening, after the day has refused to testify,

We shall be examined on love like students

Who don’t even recall signing up for the course

And now must take their orals, forced to speak for once

From the heart and not off the top of their heads.

And when the evening is over and it’s late,

The student body asleep, even the great teachers

Retired for the night, we shall stay up

And run back over the questions, each in our own way:

What’s true, what’s false, what unknown quantity

Will balance the equation, what it would mean years from now

To look back and know

We did not fail.

 -Thomas Centolella, Lights and Mysteries

***Photos of our neighborhood at sunset by my wonderful roomie Liz.