Lenten Poem — For Those Who Come at Night
You didn’t come at noon.
You came when the house was finally quiet,
when nobody was watching you scroll
through sleepless thoughts.
You came with a question
you weren’t ready to ask out loud:
“Is there more than this?
Have I already missed my one chance
to begin again?”
You knocked on the door of God
the way Nicodemus did,
not with certainty,
but with restless honesty.
The Voice did not say,
“Come back when you have your life together.”
The Voice said:
You can be born again
from here.
Not because your first life was a failure,
but because love is willing
to give you
another first breath.
The wind moves where it will.
You feel it on your skin
before you see it in the trees.
So it is with the Spirit
that finds you in the dark,
not to condemn you
for not knowing enough,
not being good enough,
not being strong enough,
but to wrap you in a presence
that does not sleep,
to hold your questions like seeds
and whisper:
Even this counts as faith —
coming to me
at night.