The Watchman’s Prayer
The Watchman’s Prayer
The watchman's thoughts, up on the wall,
Battles? Conquest? Kingdom’s fall?
No, just that this dark watch would end,
and homeward safe to hearth, to friends:
His simple cares.
As slow the night watch crawls toward dawn,
he spots a doe who with her fawn.
from darkened woods to greener hills,
risk new grass, and warm his chill
in too-still air.
Is he noble, braving cold
if all he prays is night’s patrol
would come back safely, friends in line,
swords still clean, none left behind?
This watchman’s prayer
Please set, blood moon, where arrows fly.
Be still, shrill horns and battle cries
Pray, be fevered, dark kings and crowns
Heed your augurs, “fleets will drown”
Furl your sails
He braids in starlight, three-strand cords,
weaves a promise from his Lord
His heart beats “peace” on those ramparts.
Sleep sound and know that this watchman’s heart.
guards dawn so fair.
Steve Brown
3/15/23
of Isaiah 62.6
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