An Anatomy of Evil (A Poem)

Morning Blessing
I arise
and the song plays in my mind,
a song I taught the children
so many years ago:
“Thank you, Lord,
for giving me life;
thank you, Lord
for family and friends;
thank you, Lord,
for walking with me
through the years
‘til my journey ends.”
Every morning
it is sung within
as I brush my teeth,
as I greet the new day,
and savor the freshness,
rising from a tomb
where my darkness is buried
once again, with my Lord,
for He has promised
that He will.
never.
lose.
me.
Wrap me in your mantle,
my Protector,
my Healer,
my Justification,
my Redeemer.
Restore to me
what I keep losing;
look with mercy
on my wretched weakness,
and let Your joy
do its work in my soul,
undoing the knotted distress,
still so alive in me still
and still.
Still me,
O God:
show me, I beg,
how it will end,
and how the end of me
will glisten with newly shed tears
on this morning
which offers
so much delightful promise.
Can we pause right here,
and stay
all day,
and not have to engage the battle
for a time?
Weary soldiers
need their rest,
You know,
even in the brightness
when the field grows silent,
and wounds are salved
and wrapped,
and songs of hope
are hummed anew.
04.21.2021
The Feast of Saint Anselm