darkness walks into the neighborhood,
moves from room to room,
wraps me sitting here,
some kind of quiet that seeks time and space.
Its partner stands up in me.
I could deny it, get up and hit the lights.
Turn on the TV and invite a crowd,
But I sit, letting the dark soak in,
letting it pile up in drifts,
letting the emptiness open up in me,
the silence slowly dilate.
What is this descent?
Am I depressed? Work-weary? Let down
as the day’s adrenaline drains out?
Should I call a friend?
Why does it seem so perishable?
I sit and wait for it to speak.
No, this is not a loss, but a return,
the opening of a space,
the ripening of a friendship,
not abandonment, but an embrace.
It is the One for whom even
beneath the sigh of distant traffic
or the hum of the refrigerator
my simple breathing,
in and out,