The silence of this little candle
speaks to me
like a soft lullaby.
I am cold
and the cold makes me happy.
The dark night is here
and with it shivering starlight.
Walk out into the absence of streetlights,
follow the white line on the edge
and hold his hand,
let the dogs pull you all the way uphill.
There on the summit, the sky is an upturned bowl.
There was a journey in the dark under these same star candles.
What stories did they tell along the way?
Did they hum?
Were they happy?
Were they in love?
Did he tell her sassy jokes?
Then the baby came.
And the scene is still and silent and reverent.
Those stars are still shining,
connecting me to that sacred night.