Still the end of the day comes, still the darkness falls and Orion rises, and a glass of wine does not draw me any closer to communion with You. I am torn between guilt-induced prayer to bridge this silent chasm . . . and mindless silence to turn prayerfully, painfully, away from what I cannot hear anyway. You are — where? — tonight, and I am here alone, here at a loss. Be in the darkness. Return me safely to the sunlight.