Find my eyes at rest, not shut,
my Lord,
and though my lids be shot through with slumber,
lift them high
(rising from that
deep-sleep-sent-to-bed-without-a-peep
tomb)
And find for them a perch–––a stone, even,
soon to be rolled away,
tossed and turned
away,
but for now I'll sit, where still and quiet
my soul might rest its gaze
as if to bed yet not to sleep,
awake.
Psalm 131; 132
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