Catherine Ann Lombard, M.A.


Sep 18, 2012

At four a.m. I wake to
except for the soft rumble
of your snore
and the endless surge of thoughts
I struggle to rein in.
Shepherdess with errant sheep.

seems far away
like the distant bells now
and the Silence at last is

I place my hands on heart
and belly and try to pray.
If woken,
God must want me to stay.
I scan the faces I saw that day.

The young girl at the bakery.
The young girl at the mercado.
The young girl on the bus.
The young girl in my old beating heart.

The gentle snore breaks.
Are you okay? he asks.
Shhh. Go back to sleep, I hush.
The night feels so deeply

At last I too sleep
to dream awake my faith,
my fears.
A new holy day.


Catherine Ann Lombard
© September 12, 2012