Devotion for April 3: A short poem

When each earthly brace falls under
And life seems a restless sea
Are you then a God-held wonder
Satisfied and calm and free?

-John Henry Jowett in Streams in the Desert by L.B. Cowman

"Rekindled Nightlies," by yours truly

But, soft-en the remote; It is my lord of polity, O, fairest of all reports: Lehrer, art thy melody moderniz'd and where fore is Sir McNeil? Did he die, and Jennings too -- winged messengers of heaven -- pray it rumor? Hark! What yonder news breaks: Condoleezza Rice. Oil prices. Benazir Bhutto. Mortgage rates. I wilt entreat my ears steady in mine awakened love til morrow's evening cast.

What 's worth staying awake for?

Everyone is quiet in bed and all is dark. One of many escapades answering the middle-of -the-night call of my son, I finally tuck a returned babe into his crib and then try and fall back asleep. But the wind is blowing outside, and the rain is falling on every surface. I love the sound. The swaying pattern of strong and tender music in taps and drips invigorates a sense of peace. There is a loud thud suddenly, and I realize that the garbage can has been knocked off the curb. "Dang, that's gonna be a mess," I carelessly lament, and roll on cue to get back to sleep.