An Answer

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

At the end of every day

there is a silence that creeps

in.

It’s the unoccupied space

filled with memories

and what ifs.

Sometimes it has a name.

Usually not.

It keeps me in good company,

dependable

and never argumentative.

We’ve started growing old

together,

like long familiars do.

But lately my gratitude for

such a simple departure

into the night has begun

to wane.

I hear voices after the sun

sets.

One of them sounds like mine.

I dare myself to believe

in the other,

with little success

as of yet.

What does one do with

an interlude

in which a single candle

burns

faster than the red wine?

Perhaps this is a space

reserved for prayers.

If so, I am lacking,

for I have forgotten

for that which I used to pray

so heartedly.

“Maybe,” says the flickering

flame,

“you are not to pray,

but to become the answer

to a prayer.”

© 2012-2013/Jamie K. Reaser

Published in "Sacred Reciprocity: Courting the Beloved in Everyday Life." (www.hiraethpress.com)