The emptiness can be your friend.
Not the kind who eggs you on,
To come out, meet the world,
But the one who listens
Quietly, while your soul exhales.

The quiet can be your companion,
Bouncing along with you
In a clattering railway carriage.
As trees and bridges hurtle on,
It knows only the beating of your heart.

The silence can be your well
To draw cool, still water
From the deep -
Its touch, an instant balm
For fevered brows.

The setting sun can be an invitation
For you, to light
Every lamp you can.