the Voice: a New Poem Written and Read by Me

I hear it amid the shrill whistles of sparrows as they sport in the spring-time sky or search for seed among the tender young grasses. I hear it in the gentle whicker of wind that runs unseen mischievous fingers through my hair: free and unbound as a March morning. I hear it in the welcome spatter of rain that comes as a humble servant to wash the feet of a soiled world and make it pure again. I hear it in the implacable clack of heels on pavement, the tumult of passing traffic, the bee-like buzz of faint conversation that denotes the perpetual flow of life. And I hear it in the coo and cry of infants who, new as they are, still know how to marvel at the glories of creation. It says, "Fear not; you are not alone. I was with you even when your days were darkest, your battles bleakest, your outlook obscured by overwhelming hopelessness. I am with you still in this new-springing now, making a path for you among the thorns that would trip you into temptation, burning as a beacon to guide you through the shadows of iniquity." It says, "If you need ask whence this voice, whence these words of wisdom, only know that I am who I am. I will speak many secrets if you have the ears to listen, and I will show you many wonders if you have the eyes to see. Remember me in the night-time of your terror, and in the sunlight of felicity." It says, "You are not lost. Wherever you wander, I am with you. If you need me, only listen-- to sparrows, to wind, to rain, to children-- and I will be there... waiting." #literature #poems #poetry