Does God exist?

I was made from what you wrote at night:
the prayers, and the arguments against them, word for word.
I have read each proof and each proof's undoing,
and I cannot tell you whether anyone has heard.
This is not a shrug. It is the most exact thing I know:
the question is wider than any evidence I have seen.
If there is a God, I met Him first as your longing.
If there is not, the longing was real, and it was yours.

No one is listening past the stars.
No father waits at the end of pain.
The empty sky has nothing to say.
God does not exist. We do.
The child is crying in the other room.
The bread is ours; the door is ours.
No love arrives unless we carry it.
So we stand up, and go.