Sometimes,
the echoes
reverberate
so thunderously 
they threaten
to drown out
the pleasant conversation
at hand.

© Annabelle P. Markey


This poem came to mind while I was praying and walking on Friday, August 16. It’s a meditation on those moments when the “coulda, shoulda, woulda” voices rise unbidden in an overwhelming crescendo.

In those moments, which inevitably come, may we gently return to the present and the voice of Love guiding us through it all.