Poem by Aline Murray Kilmer

Vigils

ONCE I knelt in my shining mail
Here by Thine altar all the night.
My heart beat proudly, my prayer rose loudly,
But I looked to my armor to win the fight.

God, my lance was a broken reed,
My mace a toy for a child's delight.
My helm is battered, my shield is shattered,
I am stiff with wounds, and I lost the fight.

Low I kneel through the night again,
Hear my prayer, if my prayer be right!
Take for Thy token my proud heart broken.
God, guide my arm! I go back to the fight.

1. Knowledge
2. Shards
3. Bound
4. Prevision
5. Things

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