Midnight Friends

I think it possible, perhaps even likely,
that at the Midnight hour,
when all is dark and quiet, as
Sleep tucks the blanket corner
one last time before wrapping
me in her gentle arms,
the mystery will come.

It never grows beyond faint,
but it echos deep within my
sleepy soul.
Not a voice.  Not even an
intelligible sound.  Could
it be a vivid intuition?
It is, with certainty, a call.

I’ve heard it before when
rest has finally settled my
anxiousness, calmed
uncertainties and unknowns.
Then, as the descent into sleep
begins, this soul stirring starts;
insistent, unrelenting,
until I sit up and stare into the darkness.

I light a small candle whose flame is
only strong enough to cast an
indistinct shadow, only the hint of Light
dancing on the bedside table.
But enough.  Just enough.
Enough for someone, somewhere
in a corner of creation, someone who has
awakened into pain or sorrow that
sleep cannot extinguish.
Someone, please God, who senses
that another being lights a candle
for their blessing and imagines
their presence within
The Presence.

May peace embrace all my Midnight Friends.