In the quiet of the night
I listen to the softer strains
Of life inside and out:
The call of peepers in the creek,
The fading hum of commuters’ tires,
The antiphonal hymn of owl songs,
The whisper of a cat as she prowls nearby,
(restless, like me, and not content to rest. )

I sit and wait – –
For what?
For God to speak.
And yet, for something more…
For news.
For answers.
For the silent velvet of night
To wrap me once again
In sleep.