Evening Prayer

    “Evening Prayer,” Ensign, Jan. 1976, inside front cover

    Evening Prayer

    “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem,”

    The old Jews prayed, “Let my right hand forget …”

    I had done worse. I had forgotten life, light, food,

    Sunlight and song: I had forgotten thee.

    The day had dragged me in its wake.

    My heart, long-hardened, barely felt

    A kind of restlessness that brought me back.

    Back where? I hardly knew.

    The memory of a memory told me “home.”

    With little faith and less of hope I came

    And knelt beneath the weight of guilt—

    The little lies, the swift unkindnesses,

    The tasks left incomplete—

    But I knelt too beneath thy hands:

    The hands that freed me, and made whole

    The fragments of a heart I did not know was broken.

    I must go out again by morning light.

    But this time, Lord, I think I will remember:

    I go upon thy errand

    And I know

    The way back home.