St. Michaelmas PoemCopyright 2011, Paul Hawkins

On the evening of St Michaelmas

the light will cause a silver stair to meet

lost sleepers at their feet and

guide them to a bed of air,

for there to heal and sleep

and dream, St Michael for to keep

protection on their fading days

as Autumn stirs and Autumn plays

beneath their silver hair with stabs of youth,

When love was not yet sought nor lost, nor truth

denied. St Michael, you were always there;

St Michael you are still here now

to ease our sleep, unknit our brow,

to guide, to lift the burden of our hearts,

to bind our wounds, to heal, remind

us of the love that led us here,

for one another's cross to bear,

with promise of God's love, protected sleep

some day to waken in the air,

a world with love as strong as youth

awake from shadows into truth,

as silver spinning stories told,

of silver transformed into gold.