The Weight of Presence

In the stillness of the evening,

    I sit, staring at an empty chair,

its polished wood reflecting

    a moment’s worth,

    a reminder of presence,

    the weight of being here,

    in a world that often forgets.

Someone checked in, a voice,

breaking through the silence,

    sharp and clear,

like a chisel against stone,

    carving out the shape

    of connection, and I wonder—

what do I do now

with this gift of existence?