In the pale glow of artificial lights
Night mocks me. I know it well;
Some thought, a worry or a hope,
Overtakes that moment between sleep and awake.
My mind, at once alert, closes the remaining gap
Now exposed to its probing of all
It remembers and all it longs to see.
As it contemplates said thought, dreams
Slowly fade, and reality's
Unfettered madness settles in.
Closing my eyes only prolongs the inevitable
Kicking off of the bedsheets,
Silently admitting my defeat by endless musings.
Bowing my head, I lift my prayers,
Ultimately dependent on saving grace
To deliver me, and a promise:
God knows the end from the beginning. No
Oppressive uncertainty or speculation
Disproves His sovereign governance.
Great philosophers, carried away by reasoning's
Insatiable search for meaning, worship
Vainly their own imaginations at the
Expense of sufficient rest. Yet every idea,
Small or great, God perceived in eternity past. Myopic
History we compose, while
In mercy He reveals to every era
Suggestions of knowledge beyond human comprehension.
Lamenting our frailty, we ponder questions answered
Oftentimes before we ask. Our
Variable faith, weakened by sight, might see more
Effortlessly in the darkness,
Dare we listen to His Word in the stillness of night.
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