Tonight may be my last night here this year
And thus my last Vespers
I am thinking of driving home tomorrow evening
I know it is a six hour drive
And I know that I won’t set off much before five
For tomorrow I am meeting up with my son
And I have no desire to curtail, or foreshorten
What little time we share together
As I write this it is becoming self-prophetic
What is the point of spending another night
Of broken sleep, here in the monastery
When I could be home with you
There you see, it seems almost settled
All I have to do is make the time to pack the car
Sometime between Vigils, and Lauds perhaps
Or maybe after Lauds would be less of a rush
Only eight in tonight’s Vespers congregation
And six of those, myself included
Are residents in the monastic quarters
We may feel that we have an obligation to fulfil
Of the remaining two, one came half way through
I won’t then stay for Friday night Vespers
But I rather hope they have a better congregation
What with it being the weekend and all that
