Mercy Tolentino Steenwyk

“The time is 1:16 in the morning
It is the darkest hour of night
Of light and dark. No shadows in sight
No motion. No pain to mourn or fight
No anxiety rising in the bright light.

The day unfolded as it should.
My children lived the day as they should.
No shiver found its way for good
The mountains locked in a stare as they should
Leaves gazed and swayed as they should.

And in this time, this presence
So palpable I hold it dear. I can touch it
And wrap my fingers around it in a manner
I can never know as I should.

I call on my Creator to thank Him
for such moment, such gift
I call on my Creator to ask
What this is all about.

This unknown moment.
So present, so warm. I
Thank Him for this gift,
This golden silence
This presence that’s
So eluded me.

In my spirit I felt
The rising of His answer.
A spirit I knew so well.
A spirit every day
And every night
Followed me around.
Inhabited me. I chose to
Cast him aside. Told him
To wait. Sit by the door.
See my coming and going
And catch me only when
I’m immobile.

Immobility I never knew.
Standing still I never did.

This silence, this state of being
Came in the whisper of my Creator.
In the darkest hour of the
Night. At 1:16 in the morning.

”