The Pilgrim Road 12 Poem by David McLansky

The Prioress at Her Morning Prayers (12)

In the darkness of early morn, 

Before the sun had sparked the dawn,
Before its mantle had been spread
O'er the East its golden threads, 

The Prioress sank down on her knees

And clasped her hands in fervent plea

And intoned her favorite daily prayer

To the still and velvet air:
'God spare me from all wicked thoughts, 

Grant me the peace I long have sought, 

Make this day a peaceful one

That I might dote upon your Son; 

God grant me now the Peace of Christ

The hours to come be free of strife, 

That I might labor in contemplation
Of
 the healing power of His Resurrection.'.