Friday, September 17, 2010

Shattered Night

I hear the trees sing
their whispered hymns of praise
to the moon
lingering high
over bowing, bright branches,

when exploding past
glaring red lights,
angry motors and anxious sirens
shatter this sacred night.

But still I wait,
and at last I hear
that voice,

the small, soft voice
that says
"I am."

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