Mornings late abed, melancholy rain,
feathered-hope graffiti, love’s youthful churn,
Boston flanerie, torque of longing’s strain,
son in darkness, autumn, a sermon’s turn;
lungs’ gulp, bereaved embrace, vanilla pine,
brokenness reknit, hands-uplifted prayer,
midnight thoughts, intimations of design,
a chancel choir, friends’ laughs, the weight of care;
fire-purpled evening, remade love, a verse,
motets’ weave and rise, raveled-open soul,
released Anfechtung, church-tears, mem’ry’s nurse,
morning quiet, mountains, the hoped-for whole;
pilgrim’s aching, first Herbert poem’s heart’s-ease,
stubborn bones, a kindly thought, sacred peace.
By Common Consent, a Mormon Blog 
Thank you for this gracious verse, Jason. A soul-calming reflection for a soul-troubling time.
Awesome, Jason. Thanks for sharing.
Reminds me a little of Hopkins.
He’s in there, but the more immediate debt is to Herbert.
I read this yesterday as I walked the halls of our church building with a falling-asleep 4 month old strapped to me. Beautiful. And balm to my soul on a weekend where extra lots of my mental and emotional energy were spent worrying about the future of America and stuff. Thank you.
Thanks, Aly!