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