The Shepherd in Silence

He stands at a sliding glass door. Hands in pockets, the city lights

flickering beyond the balcony. The condo is quiet, too quiet.

He exhales, feeling the emptiness echo back at him. For so long

he held onto hope that she would walk through that door again, that the silence

would break and laughter would fill these rooms. But tonight acceptance settles over him.

Gentle as dusk, he whispers, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not

want." The words feel foreign at first but he lets them linger.

He remembers when he first heard them as a boy recited in church