Praying the Rosary

The string of worries

slips through our fingers

like some old woman’s rosary

each bead some imminent dread

to be gelded by some grace 

from the cabinet of faith

mumbled by dumb lips

Amid these mumblings

we lie in the dark of night

seeking passage into dreams

sleep which like some tardy train

is delayed by some mudslide

along bent tracks of time

so we count our stones

Til drifting off to sea

we find ourselves awake

within the coulee of anxiety

our rosary now great boulders

tipped by some devil’s touch

to be caught in mid-flight

by some angel’s wing

Advertisements

About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Praying the Rosary

  1. SalvaVenia says:

    Soothing and comforting.

    Like

  2. Morgan says:

    Wishing You Joy and Inspiration in the coming week. Thank You for All you share to brighten my days. :)

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s