The Intruders.

I was praying past the hour

when drowsy eyelids bargained with sleep

and the room, smug with silence,

decided to get crowded.

Two guests slipped in without knocking

clumsy in their stealth

tiptoeing like amateurs

who think the dark will cover bad manners.

One leaned close as though to gift me something

right into my nose of all places

which is no holy doorway.

So I grabbed their cord

whatever contraption tethered them

as if Heaven had wired the trap itself.

They pushed my face forward

as if a sofa were a throne

and I, unwilling Queen, must not look upon them.

But fear leaked from their grip

and I drank it gladly.

My words fell like stones

The Lord judge you

The Lord judge you

until panic made them slippery.

A whisper within said

Let them go now.

So I did

and they scrambled for the exit

with the grace of startled pigeons.

One collided with the wall

a thump so loud

even the angels chuckled.

Then the house exhaled

oil glistened on doorframes

and peace slipped back in,

like an old friend returning from the kitchen

with nothing in its hands but quiet.