“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
communication….
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
what-could-have-beens….
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.
Poetic Meanderings 