You do not speak, and, as the cold moon turns
I feel the darkness of descending night.
In these hollow spaces
My heart becomes an echo-chamber
Of the words I cannot speak.
Where is your face?
Where is the song you should sing back to me
Reverberant with you?
Are the notes all falling
Into a chasm only God can span?
I will take His hand
And walk across the bridge invisible
To that far place where I can wait for you
In the Garden where no fear can enter in.