Keep watch, dear Lord

And so the bedtime prayer begins. Both children are mostly grown, if anyone is ever mostly grown. I anticipate this begins a series of reflections, but then again, I never know. I, too, am mostly grown.

It is mostly a comfort

To ask this,

To name the One who watches:

Lord;

To know Someone

Has Her equivalent

Of a baby monitor

Next to the bed.

Heck

She doesn’t need such things.

Her Mother’s ear is tuned

To the world,

Her Mother’s eye

Catches everything

In that way

Good mothers do.

She has eyes

In the back of her head,

And in front.

Her peripheral vision

Is next to none.

Heck

She invented peripheral vision.

Keep watch, dear Lord,

The way only You

Can do.