The Longing Hours

“Other sound than the owl’s voice there was none, save the falling of a fountain into its stone basin; for it was one of those dark nights that hold their breath by the hour together, and then heave a long low sigh, and hold their breath again.”

— Charles Dickens.

Some nights I keep 

company with the owls,

those 3am stirrings 

when moon glow drifts 

through a parted curtain, 

a comforting light 

as I attend a night watch, 

a calling to prayer, 

a salve of silent


Sometimes awakened 

by a gentle nudge

and other nights  

jolted by some nebulous 

but haunting dream,

I am pressed into prayers 

for someone, somewhere,

or for my own aching soul 

when life casts long shadows 

of pain, remembrance, 

or stirrings of my


And so I stay, still in the lingering 

dark, comforted by the Keeper 

of my tired and anxious heart.

—C.L. Fisher, November 2021

Unless otherwise indicated, all writings and images are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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