by Jeffrey Essmann

We view the end of time as worrisome
When out the sun will of a sudden poof
And all the lights that form the nightly roof
Will utterly to gravity succumb,
And whatsoever’s left of Christendom
Will face reward eternal or reproof
For all those times we held ourselves aloof
From love and grace’s sweet delirium.
If it be soon though, God, I have to say:
I think we all could use another day
(Or two) to steer our ships back from the shoals
And reassert our moral confidence
Or pray with a bedeviled eloquence,
“O Lord, O Lord, have mercy on my soul!”

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Jeffrey Essmann is an essayist and poet living in New York. His poetry has appeared in numerous magazines and literary journals, among them America Magazine, Dappled Things, the St. Austin Review, U.S. Catholic, Grand Little Things and various venues of the Benedictine monastery with which he is an oblate. He is editor of the Catholic Poetry Room page on the Integrated Catholic Life website.