Nights like these

November 6, 2013

It’s strange

how the smallest thing

becomes the most important thing

at a time like this,

when the hour is late– 

that sliver 

of a moment, between all the have-to’s,

I spend in silence because I don’t want to ruin

the quiet ember

that I’m allowed to hold so close

right before I fall asleep.

The nights I find it it’ll be hiding

in between the pages of a book,

or beneath the bags of my eyes, 

or maybe somewhere else entirely.

It’s the small things on nights like these

that make me see that peace 

is truly not the absence of strife

but the presence of Love in every 

little

thing

moment

word

breath

second.

He is so alive.

Advertisements