It is too early, but I can’t sleep anymore, a lifelong reality I have sometimes appreciated more than right now. Caleb is also awake. I can hear him in his restlessness – also a lifelong reality. An ambulance siren wails more loudly as it draws nearer, stirring up some dogs in the neighbourhood and coyotes nearby who inhabit the floodplain – voicing an agony for me I keep under layers.
The siren fades, the canine howls fade and Caleb and I are left to soothe ourselves as best we can; I know I won’t be able to soothe him.
I sit here writing
layering words, pencil prayers
to cover us both
Night vigils, proffered prayers, punctuated by vocal tic bursts, barks and sirens (amens perhaps?) surround me. More than three, not gathered exactly, but unified, God’s good creatures offering a holy wailing for peace from distress, night disturbances and the agonies that unsettle us all.
© 2016 Laurel Archer