Some nights you pray into your pillow
for God to give you the strength
to make it through the next day,
week, month, year,
and I never hear an answer,
never see it come in the mail

You may think stamps only travel so far,
that a signature was needed
and you were never home to sign,
that you have to follow the road to the post office
to pick it up,
but I’m here to let you know
that the package is not coming,
that you do not have to go to Oz
to get what you already have

Your strength shines in blackouts
like the candles you ignite,
filling a house with light
when the world outside is darkness
and death waits
on the doorstep

You aren’t fighting to keep the door closed,
immortality isn’t a possibility,
you are fighting to keep the house lit
in a blackout;
one day the door will open and blow out the candle,
but at least the house spent its last days
with the light on