The Temple of Silence

I saw God – not in the light of icons,
But in a hand that was afraid to touch a shoulder.
He stood on the border between love and fire,
Like a silence that pleads: “do not let go.”

I recognized Him in the surge of helpless desires,
That do not dare to call themselves life.
In a tear that never fell upon the skin,
And in a gaze, cast into the night – like stones.

His body is not a cross, but my fear of touching.
His blood is the love that hides in the shadows.
And my entire spirit is a prayer without words,
Whispering within itself: “be present when I am silent.”

I do not ask Him to carry my pain.
I only ask – to just be…
Within me. Like a sorrow that has learned to bloom.
Like an abyss that has become a temple for silence.