At the End of the Day

I am sitting in my living room. It is 9:30pm. The house is quiet. I am alone. Cookie Boy and Romeo are upstairs, tucked in their beds. Not asleep, but reading. The Mad Toddler is asleep, with a bead toy and 5 trains, not to mention a stuffed monkey, a stuffed dog, and a fluffy white polka-dot pillow. ArtGuy and The Young Adult are probably on their way home from Boy Scouts.

A few minutes all my own, to savor.

Ahhhhh!

A little poem to end the day!

courtesy of morguefile.com

MAKER OF MOON AND STARS


Sometimes I wonder
     when I am alone,
Where do stars come from
     and where do they go?
Do they have a place
     to call their own?
When night is over
    do they go home?
What do they do
     when day breaks up dark skies?

The moon watches over
      each little one.
It’s the last to bed
     when night is done,
Fading out slowly
     when the sun has come,
After the stars
     each one have run
Home to where night rests.

The moon has the stars
      to oversee.
I watch the moon,
     but who watches me?
The One who made
     sun, cloud, and breeze,
He made the nighttime
     skies to see.
He watches over them
    and he watches over me –


The Maker of moon and stars.


CMA