Sunday, July 6, 2014

And this I ask

The "Now I lay me's" floated in
Rare eloquence, that once more sin
Be pardoned, shamed the sunset's glow.
And clouds grew thick with thanks.
 Below Earth held up hands for Heaven to still.
God leaned against His window sill
In pensive brooding, through the noise
 A sob cut clearly, then a boy's:
"If Rags should die before I wake,
I pray Thee, Lord, his soul to take."
God's hand, past priest and pedagogue,
 Reached out to heal a small boy's dog.

MAYHOWARD AUSTIN McEACHERN

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