I tallied all I thought and did and said
to find a way to make them balance out—
Sometimes I miss the numbers in my head,
like rosary beads, as through my hands they sped,
a prayer to counter every word of doubt.
I tallied all I thought and did and said:
the loving acts, the saintly books I read,
could then undo each unkind, angry shout.
Sometimes I miss the numbers in my head.
They stood, a wall against encroaching dread:
God's reckoning demands a perfect count.
I tallied all I thought and did and said.
Too great a task for numbers, beads, and thread,
to bear the weight of hope, so they gave out.
Sometimes I miss the numbers in my head.
I stand here naked, my defenses shed—
no proof of good, and what am I without?
I tallied all I thought and did and said.
Sometimes I miss the numbers in my head.
Christopher Wordsworth. Greece Pictorial, Descriptive, & Historical, and a History of the Characteristics of Greek Art, London, John Murray, 1882. – http://eng.travelogues.gr/collection.php?view=37, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=48156106
Kate Bluett 