The Night’s Quiet Hour

In the night’s quiet hour

I awake.

Sleep escapes

my tired head of

thoughts that lead to nowhere;

Now here now there,

no urgent paths to tread.

Just faces, places, tasks and stories

raising their many coloured heads,

their textured memories,

their wordless threads:

* A sister enduring treatment with concern,

* A friend who mourns his sibling’s early death,

* Another deep on grief’s grim lonely path,

* A friend I couldn’t meet today, from afar,

* An email I await and long to read

* Another to which I’ve promised to respond,

* A client confessing a deep held need,

* A world that hates, that loves, is caught in greed;

* The dreams for which the lonely long.


All these I try to hold,

To mull, like the precious stones they are

these thoughts around me, that

surround me

In the dark;

of God’s mysterious love

that’s awake always

with me, thank God

in the night’s quiet hours.


About chrisahrends

For me, writing is a healing art aimed at healing me - and if in any way it resonates with you - that would be wonderful. I live in Cape Town, South Africa; work in the Anglican Church of Southern Africa and am married to Jacqui Macqueen Ahrends.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The Night’s Quiet Hour

  1. Steph Guertin says:


    As always, you bring joy and inspiration to my days. I come here often to read your poetry and writings. Thank you. I hope you and your family are well.

    Kind Regards always,

    Steph Guertin

Leave a Reply

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

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

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

Connecting to %s