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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