There are great
stretches
of barrenness and silence.
And I cannot hear
your voice
and I do not know
your presence.
More than I thought
there’d be
as that earnest child
under the blanket
and with a flashlight
deep into the night.
Looking for you
and listening for
your voice.
…
Which is maybe
why I light
a candle
as I do.
A silent act
spoken
in secret.
A light shines
in the darkness
and the darkness
has not yet
overcome.