Sarah, the floral waistcoat, eucalyptus, magpies, lemon tree, cockatoos in the gum trees, and dogs greeting us as though we have returned from war make God’s silence feel strangely present, never empty. I was moved by the way the unanswered “why” gives way to “what now?” with no cheap resolution, only attention: sunsets, moonrise, wildflowers, tea, old friends, lovers, and the love still waiting to move through your hands. The poem honors the ache of death, heartbreak, lost fathers, and prayers that echo back unanswered while refusing to make certainty the measure of a meaningful life. Grateful for the way you let wonder answer without explaining, and for the final hope that an open heart, loving with everything it had, can be enough.