Rachel Heath

Intentional Living: learning to be fully present

On the Midnight Hour

At the altar of my couch

in the temple of my living room,

I am saying the only words that ever seem enough;

You are good, You are good, You are good.

I can hear my daughter’s sound machine

drifting through her door.

The sound of rain that just keeps falling and falling and flooding and flooding

and yet I am saying

the only words that ever give me an umbrella in the downpour;

You are good, You are good, You are good.

My familiar places seem alien in the shadows and the silence,

and the things I take for granted are suddenly unknown.

But I keep on saying the only words I’ve ever known,

You are good.

In this midnight hour, the most honest of moments,

when there’s no one to hear me say it

and no one to see me scared,

I find my heart has not stopped saying

You are good.

You are good.

You are good.

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6 thoughts on “On the Midnight Hour

  1. Oh you have written the song of my frightened heart… ❤

  2. This poem sings. Thank you

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