“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sunday, March 31, 2019
reception
I was called upon
to light the candles
I arose first
to a voice
in the dark
and listened
Over my right shoulder
and above
whispers
as a breeze
would hum
and falls across my skin
like daybreak
It was not necessary
to know
more than could be heard
and I do not ask
for repetition
as in prayer
for a sign
a flicker as sure as
aglow,
I kept
quiet, in order
to Here myself
saying 'Yes'
while carrying the flame.
Painting by Godfried Schalcken, c. 1670-1675 in [Public domain].
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