I didn’t like the silence in his eyes.
On the day of pain, when it went and came,
He turned his face away from me.
I did not speak to him, nor he to me.
Cold moonlight passed in early darkness.
The day grew light, and darkness again.
I had promised to do nothing,
Not to struggle for anything.
A little loving. A little meaning.
And no breaths.
I didn’t like the tears in his voice.
On the day of loss, when he lost his part,
He hid his blurred and blank stare in the great calm.
He could not speak to me, nor I to him.
It was breezeless night, voiceless moment.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I sing the night
That no one can say,
While staying in vulnerability.
And I pray to God:
Please take care of my Dad.
MDiv Candidate w/ the Certificate in Religion in the Art, Vanderbilt Divinity School