In Summer Twilight
In Summer Twilight
By Joshua Henry Jones Jr.
Just a dash of lambent carmine
Shading into sky of gold;
Just a twitter of a song-bird
Ere the wings its head enfold;
Just a rustling sigh of parting
From the moon-kissed hill to breeze;
And a cheerful gentle, nodding
Adieu waving from the trees;
Just a friendly sunbeam’s flutter
Wishing all a night’s repose,
Ere the stars swing back the curtain
Bringing twilight’s dewy close.
About This Poem
In the warm quiet of a summer evening, there comes a moment when the world seems to take a collective breath — when the sun lets go of the day and hands it gently to the night. Joshua Henry Jones Jr.’s poem “In Summer Twilight” beautifully captures that fleeting moment, painting it in colors of carmine and gold, with whispers of birdsong, breezes, and moonlight. At its heart, “In Summer Twilight” is a love letter to the day’s end — a quiet catalog of its soft sounds, subtle colors, and farewell gestures. The poem’s language is delicate and luminous: “lambent carmine,” “moon-kissed hill,” “stars swing back the curtain.”
This poem reminds us that the beauty of nature is not just in grand spectacles but in the gentle transitions, the nearly imperceptible moments that signal change. Twilight is not a violent end to day but a tender and deliberate passing. Jones personifies the elements — trees nodding adieu, a sunbeam wishing repose — emphasizing the intimate, almost communal quality of dusk.
There’s also something quietly hopeful here. The day’s end isn’t mourned; instead, it’s a graceful curtain drawn by the stars, making way for the next act. The theme of harmony between the earth and sky, between time and rest, feels particularly poignant in a modern world that rarely stops to notice such things.
Joshua Henry Jones Jr. published this poem during the Harlem Renaissance, though he was based in Boston rather than Harlem. At a time when African American writers were pushing boundaries, reclaiming their voices, and asserting their presence in literature, Jones chose, in this poem, not to protest but to praise — to claim his right to beauty and belonging in the natural world.
In an era when Black Americans were too often excluded from mainstream notions of gentility, leisure, and pastoral bliss, writing a poem about the loveliness of twilight could itself be quietly radical. Jones’s work reminds us that the African American literary tradition is just as much about affirming humanity and celebrating grace as it is about confronting injustice.
About the Poet
Joshua Henry Jones Jr. (1886–1955) was an African American poet, journalist, and novelist who became an important literary figure in Boston’s Black community in the early 20th century. Born in South Carolina, Jones studied at Ohio State University and Yale before moving to Boston. He became known for his sensitive poetry, his novel By Sanction of Law (1924), which explored an interracial marriage in Boston, and his leadership in civic and literary circles.
His poetry often reflects a deep appreciation for nature, a gentle lyricism, and a quiet dignity — qualities that shine beautifully in “In Summer Twilight.”
As we enjoy these summer evenings, let Jones’s words be a reminder to pause and notice the world around us: the nod of the trees, the flutter of the sunbeam, the curtain of stars drawing closed. There is still room — and need — for this kind of quiet wonder.
Something Has Got to Give
Last week, I wrote about the back and abdominal pain that had been plaguing me. Thankfully, the abdominal pain has eased up, but the back pain seems to have gotten worse. To top it all off, I managed to sleep oddly last night and woke up at one point because my neck and shoulder were hurting. This morning, they’re still stiff and sore.
I called in sick last Monday, so I’m determined not to do that again today. I don’t want my boss thinking I’m going to make a habit of calling in sick every Monday. Mondays are hard enough — I don’t usually want to go to work on a Monday, but I still show up. Today, though, I really do have a legitimate excuse.
I plan to call my doctor’s office this morning. It’s conveniently just across the street from work — about 30 minutes from my apartment but less than five minutes from the office — so if they can fit me in, at least it won’t be a hassle to get there. Honestly, I just want some relief. I miss going to the gym (and that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say).
I also have an appointment for a massage tomorrow afternoon, which I really hope will help loosen things up. At this point, something has got to give.
Here’s hoping this week brings some healing.
Building One Another Up
“Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, leading to edification.”
— Romans 15:2
Not long ago, the Verse-of-the-Day that landed in my inbox was Romans 15:2: “Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, leading to edification.” I’ll admit, my first reaction wasn’t exactly devotional. The phrase “please his neighbor” brought to mind some rather human, even carnal, interpretations. While I don’t currently have any neighbors who inspire those kinds of thoughts, I certainly have in the past. But as I gently corrected my own imagination, I turned to what the verse is really about.
Romans 15:2 is a call to build others up—not for personal gain, but for the sake of their good and their growth. It’s about setting aside selfishness and leaning into compassion, patience, and encouragement—traits we desperately need more of in our world today.
Sadly, when we look at the current American political climate, we see a nation drifting further and further from that call. Instead of mutual care, we see mistrust. Instead of patience, we see outrage. Laws are being written not to edify but to exclude—especially for LGBTQ+ individuals. From renewed efforts to suppress trans rights, to politicians who dehumanize queer people for political leverage, we are witnessing a culture of cruelty that stands in direct contradiction to the Word of God.
James 1:19 gives us this charge: “So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath.” But how often do we see the reverse? People rush to speak, quick to anger, unwilling to listen. People shout over each other instead of listening. Social media rewards the harshest voices. Political debates are framed not by compassion but by conquest. This is not the way of Christ. In the world we live in, outrage and judgment come quickly, while compassion and listening fall by the wayside. It’s easy to shout. It’s much harder to hear.
For those of us in the LGBTQ+ community, particularly queer Christians, this dynamic is all too familiar. We have been judged before being heard. We watch as our identities are politicized and debated rather than honored and respected. We have been spoken of but rarely spoken with. We see leaders and lawmakers tearing down the dignity of queer and trans lives and yet, Romans 12:10 reminds us: “Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another.” God does not rank people by identity or status. We are called to show honor—especially to those the world dishonors. We are not meant to live in echo chambers of self-interest or tribalism. We are meant to honor each other—especially the vulnerable and marginalized.
Even in our churches, where we should expect unity in love, divisions often mirror the world’s brokenness rather than offering a better way. Even among Christians, division and discord can grow where love and unity should flourish. But Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 1:10: “Now I plead with you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgment.” We don’t have to agree on every detail of theology or policy, but we are commanded to seek unity in Christ, grounded in love and mutual respect. This is not a call for sameness, but for unity through love, humility, and shared purpose.
Finally, we anchor ourselves in this hope from Romans 15:5–6:
“Now may the God of patience and comfort grant you to be like-minded toward one another, according to Christ Jesus,that you may with one mind and one mouth glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
As LGBTQ+ Christians, we often stand at the intersection of worlds that misunderstand or reject us. But we are not without hope. Harmony, not hatred. Encouragement, not exclusion. One voice—raised not in protest against each other, but in praise to God.
This is our calling—to live in harmony, to uplift each other, and to glorify God with one voice. As LGBTQ+ believers, we know what it means to seek belonging where others sow division. We know the power of kindness in a world of cruelty. Let us live this calling—not as abstract ideals, but as real, daily acts of love. As LGBTQ+ people of faith, we know what it means to seek harmony in the face of division. Let us be neighbors who lift others up. Let us be voices of peace and compassion in a time of bitterness. Let us be the voices that unify, and the hearts that honor God by honoring each other. And let us, with one voice, glorify the God who made us, loves us, and calls us to love boldly in return.
A Somber Fourth of July
Today is the Fourth of July — a day that is supposed to celebrate independence, liberty, and the birth of a nation “conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” But I don’t feel much like celebrating.
How do we celebrate when the ideals at the heart of this country are being trampled?
We live under a Republican Party that has become openly fascist, hellbent on dismantling every shred of decency and fairness left in our democracy. With Project 2025 as their roadmap, they now dominate all three branches of government, mocking the Constitution even as they pretend to worship it. They speak of “liberty,” but only for the wealthy and powerful — only for those who fit into their narrow, hateful vision of America.
The Preamble to the Constitution speaks of forming “a more perfect Union,” establishing justice, promoting the general welfare, and securing the blessings of liberty for ourselves and our posterity. These are not just lofty words — they are a promise. A promise this government is betraying at every turn.
We are told this is the “land of the free,” yet immigrants are vilified and rounded up like criminals. We are a “melting pot,” yet the party in power wages a war on diversity, erasing the stories, cultures, and dignity of anyone who does not fit their mold. The Statue of Liberty, with her lamp lifted high, still whispers:
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…
But the current administration would rather snuff out that lamp entirely.
We are told all men are created equal, yet inequality deepens every day. We have tax cuts for billionaires while cutting food assistance and closing hospitals. We are watching, in real time, a government that would rather people starve and die than risk denting the fortunes of the ultra-rich.
On this day in 1863, Abraham Lincoln, the first Republican president, spoke of a nation “conceived in liberty” and warned that we were being tested as to whether such a nation “can long endure.” Today, we are failing that test. The Republican Party has made it clear: they believe only rich white men are equal, and everyone else must fall in line or be crushed.
This country has stumbled before. It has made grievous mistakes and committed unforgivable sins — yet it has also found ways to right itself, at least partially, each time. But never before have we been so actively beaten down by our own government, so gleefully dismantled from within.
And the Democrats? They have grown so complacent, so timid, that they too allow this to happen. We desperately need something new — a party with courage and compassion. A party that fights for justice instead of just tweeting about it. A party that remembers that government exists for all of us, not just for Wall Street and country clubs.
If we recover from this, it will take decades. But recovery is not impossible. It starts when we remember what we shouldbe fighting for: dignity, equality, justice.
For now, though? I find myself ashamed of this country.
If Vermont decided tomorrow to secede, I’d gladly wave goodbye to this so-called union and either stand proudly as the Republic of Vermont or join Canada. (And yes, if Canada absorbed Vermont, they’d gain a monopoly on maple syrup — since Vermont and Quebec together already produce 90% of the world’s supply. At least someone would benefit.)
What it boils down to — and yes, you boil down sap to make maple syrup; I couldn’t resist — is that America has never truly been great when it comes to humanity. But it could be. It still could be. If only we chose to live up to the words we pretend to celebrate today:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal…
This Independence Day, I don’t feel like celebrating — but I do feel like fighting.
Because it’s long past time we made those truths a reality.
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