Clarion

[bruorton]

I only wanted to remind myself

that I have heard the quiet voice.

The wind high in the pines on a hill

as the first blanketing snow falls steady, steady.

The muffled, gurgling brook 

amidst the frozen woods.

The clarion call of the pioneering blackbird,

returning to stake his claim while there is 

still ice on the marsh.
 

Perhaps you have heard it too, 

that unexpected divine voice that

speaks straight to your innermost heart,

on which all the rest of your life
is only commentary.