The Corner

Night Wisdom

Face framed with a few

lonely wisps of gray,

the dark haired lady

suggested gently, over coffee,

to the young mother,

bone weary, with a babe

who had cried through the night,

but now slept, as the mother

could not,

that there was a deep voice

within her little one,

as the man he would become,

with a strength

he could not have

without her weary devotion,

provided as the gift of love,

time, and time again,

through the lonely night.

— From the September 16, 2013 issue of National Review.


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