My Own Sabbath
I want to capture something
Something of this padded moment
Sunlight is muffled, outside movements, too
Warm coffee in the cup, mottled by cream
I am tired, not having slept, yet have
Numbered hours without expectation
Except of myself
My own sabbath day
Tomorrow is the Lord’s
Don’t worry, I’m aware of presence
C L Couch
February 2, 2018 at 4:44 pm
Christopher, this I has that holy fee,I gotta to it. A sabbath day, a day of rest, even though it’s Saturday. And yes the Lotd is always here where you were here and where it is on Sunday’s, and everywhere. Omnipresent.
Great to read a Few of your poems. I enjoy them immensely 🙂