Saturday, January 10, 2009

Evening Toll


After a day that was far too busy....
I long for stiller places than the mind
where hubbub’s rowdy children will not sleep.
The day recites its deeds, too many marked “undone”,
too many labeled, “Urgent! Will not keep!”

Night’s rest has fled the clamor, fingers stuffed
into her ears, with chatter at her heels,
a pack of puppies nipping her to flight,
a ceaseless rough-and-tumble. Nightfall feels

like battlefield where neither army won,
but none can find a way to halt the fray
no one remembers starting. Why the hours
were slain and scattered, fruitless, none can say.

But more than hours are dead as day dies down.
Among the wasted victims, none left whole,
lies one who should have lived. Beside the ash
of fires burned out, I kneel and mourn my soul.

Genevieve Glen, OSB
©2009 Abbey of St. Walburga

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