-- The Ordinary Hour --

John Herlihy

There was a time when I scorned the ordinary hour,

The passing of all those dreary days, no real power.

Where are the big moments, life-changing schemes,

Such things that happen to tell us what life means.

Clouds gather, the sun disappears, it begins to rain,

We think we are happy until we begin to feel the pain.

When the clock strikes nine or ten, we say so what,

Such monotony in the routine we want to cry out but.

People go on their business doing what they please,

They make everything seem important, at their ease.

In my old age, I now treasure ordinary hours of days,

I take comfort in my peaceful routine and quiet ways.

There to settle back quietly into the ordinary hour,

To trust, to rest assured, of its unique, special power.

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(c) John Herlihy 10 August 2020