Not God as unmoved mover:
One who set the earth in motion
and withdrew. Not the One to thank
when those cherished do not die---
for providence includes equally
power to harm. Not a God of exactings;
as if love could be earned or subtracted.

But---this may work in the night:
something that breathes with us, as others
sleep, something that breathes also
those sleeping, so no one is alone.
Something that is the beginning of love;
and also part of how it is completed.
Something so large, wherever we are,
we are not separate, which teaches us again
the way to start over.

Night is the test: when grief lies uncovered,
and longing shows clear, when nothing we do
can hasten earth's turning or delay it.

This may be adequate for the night:
this holding: something that steadfastly
breathes us, which we are also learning to breathe.

--Nancy Shaffer