I cannot blaspheme this night by speaking,
And yet I hear a cry, a plea,
"Can't you stay up with me for one hour?"

In the holy quiet and dark of night,
I put on my big fur hat
And boots,
My longest coat,
And at 2am,
I find myself walking 2 miles with someone who asked me to walk one.

The bridge across the Tomsk is long.
The river and ice run together down.
Their sound runs up with the wind and trees.
This is southern Siberia!
The Beauty is harsh
But hearty.

And I will let your river run
Til you're hungry again.
Then I will say that the potatoes I have cooking in the oven on low
Will be ready by the time we get home.

And we will turn and walk together in silence,
In reference of the holy life we share,
All the way,
Until after we have had our breakfast.

-jenn