You are all things,
and in all things
I find you.

I see you in the ruffled sheets,
still painted
with the silhouette of morning.

I see you in the coffee that stains
the water that fills my cup.

I hear you,
your shuffled laughter as the sound
of each page turning in every book I read.

The sound of my breath,
echoing in my ears before sleep
and it's you
whispering between exhales.

You are all things
and in that,
you are never
alone.

In all things
I find you and in that
we are never
apart.

I cannot put a price, value, or worth on the quiet and calm that
you bring to the constant and deafening noise that always seems
to surround me.
                                                             ­                            Jon York  2019