By Choitalyk Ruman
When I begin to speak with You, my Lord,
a tremor rises in the sky of my heart.
It feels as though something vast is waiting,
something no tongue can ever carry,
no ear can ever fully receive.
A truth that escapes the net of words,
a hymn only silence knows.
And then—suddenly,
the words fall away.
I am left with stillness,
a stillness so deep
it becomes my only voice.
Before You, O my Lord,
I stand stripped of every mask.
Pride crumbles into dust,
achievements scatter like broken glass,
desires fade like shadows at dawn.
What I clung to as color
returns to pale dust.
What I claimed as mine
becomes nothing at all.
This world with its glitter,
its vanity and hunger,
its painted dreams and fleeting triumphs,
how easily they vanish in Your light.
What seemed eternal
proves to be smoke upon the river of time.
And so it is with laughter and sorrow,
with love and its shattering,
with hope and the hollowness it leaves behind.
All dissolve,
like morning mist
torn apart by an unseen wind.
Yet one truth endures, one flame does not die:
You.
Only You.
Beyond all measure,
beyond all decay,
only You remain.
So I bring what little I have.
I offer silence as my gift.
I lift my unfallen tears as prayer.
I lay down this fractured heart
as an offering at Your feet.
For You know already,
every word before it takes shape,
every thought before it finds breath.
You know the wound behind the smile,
the sorrow that hides behind steady eyes.
You know the tears that never fall,
the prayers that never cross the lips,
the longing that burns
only in the chamber of silence.
O my Lord,
You are the light within that silence.
You are the companion who never leaves.
You are the dwelling place of my soul,
the beginning and the endless return.
And so I rest in You.
Not in triumph, not in despair,
but in the quiet that holds all things.
I rest in You,
my silence,
my prayer,
my eternal Home#
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#ChoitalykRuman, #ummeymiah 9/21/2025
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