As We Slow Down our Thought...

The noise has died away as daylight seeks its rest

The child forsakes his play, the bird returns to nest

As we slow down our thought where light is almost gone

Drawing the shade on one more day closer to That Last One

Silence becomes a hum save for the distant bark

Of dog baying at the full moon; or stragglers in the park

Reluctant to return behind closed doors to sleep

Knowing how soon the morning urges darkness to the deep

Duty is set aside; its toil must wait til dawn

The intimacy of ‘good-night’ beckons in every yawn

And yet, within the tug of slumber we resist

To fully taste the fading fringe of farewell’s purple mist

…where we laid bare our dreams and scattered laughter, tears

Now twilight folds into its ream the filament of years

The child is fast asleep, the little birdie too

We turn to see the slow release of deeper, deeper blue

Thought is a microscope where sound does not distract

The hush of night like Holy Ground vulnerable in black

But Hope is not deterred by colors of the air

How mightily the soul is stirred as we fill thought with prayer

© Janet Martin