Illustrated Lecture

After everything was still

I sometimes crept

Back down the stairs

On some child-important errand,

Walking step edges

To avoid the creaks.

A quick excitement filled me

As I pressed into the shadows

And paused to peek beyond

The light-framed door

Into my mother’s room.

Often she was kneeling

At her bedside, resting on elbows

With hands clasped and lips moving

In urgent murmurings.

Her head nodded the imperatives

As she discussed

A current need or blessing

With God, who was

Her friend.

Now I leave my door ajar

Just in case

Someone needs to watch

A mother pray.