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PRE-EMPTIVE STRIKE

Retrieving a stray Kleenex, on my knees,

I spied the foreign intruder under my bed.
Startled out of my reach, in swift surmise,

It scuttled for its life in harried dread.

I only had to see the scurrying motion,

And in a flash my armored had descended.
Protesting for its life in brave commotion,

It yielded to the second blow—unfended.

What drive so geared my slamming hand?
Fear of a bite as I slept undefended?

Ancestral genes? Ego’s command?
It curled its legs into death. Unmended.

Since Cain’s raised hand and murder’s nascence,

Pre-emptive strikes are deft of aim.

But this instinct killed my own complacence:
I didn’t even know the small thing’s name.

Sr. Honora Remes is a Daughter of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul living
in St. Louis, MO. She loves offering directed retreats and facilitating
Spiritual Awakening groups with homeless women transitioning into
secure living situations. E-mail Sr. Honora at [email protected]

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