i can't say

there’s a blank page.
borders stretching wide,
searching for what’s true.
while margins closing in,
not just any words will do.

i can’t say He’s not near,
i can’t say He’s not speaking,
i can’t say He’s not moving.
so i guess i can say
it is well.

what i can say,
is enough to say it all.
the wordless speak for themselves,
the layer of every page calls.

i can’t say He’s not here,
i can’t say He’s not healing,
i can’t say He’s not touching.
so i guess i can say
He is good.

enough the invitation,
hushed the gift.
silence so loud it shakes,
the whisper has room to shift.

i can’t say the page is wrong,
i can’t say the page is wasted,
i can’t say the page is empty,
good can move in here,
and that one word is plenty.