at the bending of the knee,
at the turning-down of the sheets,
at the folding of the hands in sleep –
give, receive and rest.
Give the day:
its unresolved agonies,
its fragments, its drafts
and all the things we’d best forget.
Give, and let it sleep.
the table lies open.
Feast as the night declares:
Sufficient to itself the burdens
and stresses of the morn.
the creek bids you lap, unweary.
Your enemies will not dare come
within an inch of where you lie.
The night is now your friend.
in tender mercy,
the dawn from on high
will break in fold of light and bring
new truth to bear on all.