Bonnie Thurston
It is a very meager
vehicle for prayer,
prosaic, humdrum,
no lightening flash
or angelic visitation.
But every morning
I read psalms, scripture,
prayers by people much
farther along the way.
Ditto at day’s end when
I draw up the comforter:
clemens, pia, dulcis.
We are not the first
to live in evil times.
History’s full of them.
In our particular darkness
it is easy to lose sight
of the light in everything.
Expecting no miraculous
lifeboat or water-walker,
We cling to a battered book,
the old, wooden planks
that keep us afloat
in tonight’s stormy sea.
