My Turn by Leslie Townsend

Sleepless in Kentucky during Covid-19

O God,
help me.
Help me and others
who are suffering
and feel we
can’t go on this way.

Thank you for birdsong
that awakens us each day,
for the sun that rises
and the moon whose
cycling never ends,
stars alight in the midnight
sky that faithfully appear,
though we may not see them there.
For the steady thrum of waves
as they beat upon the shore,
the woosh of their retreating back to sea.

For bulbs and trees that flower
every Spring, rhythms of waking
and sleeping, seasons coming
and going, even revolutions
of life and death and birthing.

All these, we rely upon
for substance to our days,
a trustworthy foundation
that sustains and supports
amid the challenges of change
and human willfulness.

Like manna in the wilderness,
You give us our daily bread.