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!”
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.