We’re all in this together,
looking for the songs to sing
that will hold the world together.
We might look to the soldier or scientist
to save us,
but the hero sits in silence before dawn,
looks out the window at the moon
slender and radiant in her old age,
and listens,
listens below ticking clock
and hooting owl,
listens beyond the whisper of candle flame
and the tinkle from the bells
the ants wear round their feet.
Deep in the earth,
deep in the cave of her heart,
angels sing,
and the poet transcribes.
Originally published in Second Wind: Words & Art of Hope & Resilience.
