For a long time
I thought someone would come.
With light in their sleeve,
with words that have
that voice.
The one who heals.

I sat
on the threshold of my emptiness,
with a chair ready
and a question in my pocket.

No one came.
But time did.
And it sat with me.
Silently.
Like a monk
who forgot the prayer,
but still remembers
why he was silent.

One day,
I broke:
stop.
don’t wait.
say.

And the voice I heard
was not from outside.
It was
my own.

Not the voice of courage,
but like a child
you let
begin to speak.

And now,
when someone asks me
who is the god I waited for
I say:

the one who finally
sat in his place
and stopped
searching
for something better
than himself.