THE ALBUM

I don't know what you call it

when the night stops answering.

God.

Mercy.

Light.

Nothing.

I only know

I was still speaking.

I have asked the ceiling

questions it could never keep.

I have put my hands together

without knowing what it means.

Not for heaven.

Not for proof.

Not for someone to explain me.

Just for one quiet second

where I did not have to carry

everything alone.

I won't tell you what is holy.

I won't tell you what is true.

Some people kneel in silence.

Some just break in two.

Whatever you believe,

I hope it finds you there.

When your voice has left your body

and your name feels hard to wear.

Whatever you believe,

let it hold what you can't show.

When you run out of words,

let the sound become the prayer.

Whatever you believe…

finds you there…

No words left…

becomes the prayer…

Some find it in a candle.

Some find it in the rain.

Some call a mother's picture

just to make it through the day.

Some whisper to a statue.

Some read the sky for signs.

Some draw a little circle

and step inside the line.

I don't laugh at any of them.

I know what fear can do.

When the floor leaves your body,

you will reach for something too.

I won't ask you to believe me.

I won't ask you to agree.

But if something ever held you

when nobody could see—

then you know.

Whatever you believe,

I hope it finds you there.

When your voice has left your body

and your name feels hard to wear.

Whatever you believe,

let it hold what you can't show.

When you run out of words,

let the sound become the prayer.

Call it God

when you need a Father.

Call it Mary

when you need a Mother.

Call it Buddha

when you need the stillness.

Call it spirit

when you need the room to listen.

Call it energy.

Call it mercy.

Call it nothing

if the name hurts too much.

I don't need to know your language

to understand the reach.

Every human has a moment

where the mouth becomes a bridge.

Whatever you believe,

I hope it finds you there.

When your voice has left your body

and your name feels hard to wear.

Whatever you believe,

let it hold what you can't show.

When you run out of words,

let the sound become the prayer.

I don't know what you call it

when the night stops answering.

I call it God.

But whatever you believe,

I hope it hears you too.

From me,

to God.