It’s only 2 am
but already,
it feels like a long, long night.
I’m in the kitchen filling a kettle –
a hot water bottle
to ease Dolores’s pain
and a cup of tea
to help me to sleep.

It’s so quiet now.

Outside,
an occasional car or lorry hums
as it passes on the motorway.
Inside,
Dolores moans in her sleep.

Suddenly, out in the garden,
a bird bursts into song
singing his heart out
in a joyful, melodic, celebration
while I fill Dolores’s hot water bottle.

The bird’s chorus persists
for some time.
Dolores settles in her sleep
and I sit down at the kitchen table
to enjoy a rare treat –
tea, toast and bird song.
And I wonder
whether this celebratory chorus
in the wee, small hours,
has been commissioned by My God
specially for me?

As I return to my bed
and drift off to sleep
I give thanks to My God
for tonight’s precious gift –
tea, toast, bird song
and, finally,
sleep.

© Claire Murray, 27th December 2018