In the middle of the night
All of the little thoughts I have avoided all day
Come creeping into my head.
The nagging doubts, the “if only’s,”
The “I could have done that differently,” the “how come’s,”
The embarrassing things I did or the unselfish things I didn’t do,
The smile I didn’t give, or the impatience that I did,
The phone call or visit I was too busy to make,
Or everything that I wish I could change,
Comes creeping into my head in the middle of the night.
Tomorrow, tomorrow, I say,
Tomorrow I’ll make it right.
Tomorrow I’ll write the letter, send the card, make the call.
Surely tomorrow I will do better than I did yesterday.
And I am caught in the middle of all of my good intentions
to do better, to love more, to hurry less, to stop and remember,
to trust easily, to avoid beating myself up.