A Song for Small Hours
May I sing You in the small hours
when all is close
and notes fade in the dark
as they leave my lips.
May I greet that solitude
as Your home
and know,
beyond illusion,
Your hand in mine,
warm and firm.
May I take comfort
from even the basest voices
crowding in then,
for they too are me,
are You,
are life speaking to life.
And should I shatter
in that empty time,
may the shards,
resting miles apart,
form a greater being
holding the world together.