My Quiet Time

Posted on: June 30, 2002 Written by
My Quiet Time
Photography by: fotofreaks from iStock          

It never comes.
A guest, children, laundry,
these swallow up my best hours
until I,
exhausted,
have to rest
(to my disgrace).
But sometimes, here and there,
I don’t command,
the waves retreat;
cool air,
brief stillness, and
God shoulders all my cares.
This time is grace.

 

©2002 Thrive


View the original print magazine where this article was first published.



About the author

View all articles by: