I heard it, then - or thought I heard
A voice so faint it held no word,
A sigh so still that breathing "sigh"
Would bruise and bend, would gale away
Its self-note, leaving only my
Own thought and will.
There was a wind that had a voice
That spoke such force to split the rock
And then was gone, as something more
Deep-rooted took its place before
My fearful eyes: a movement of
The earth itself,
Rucked by a groan, ripped by a moan,
Reshaped and raw, all fissures now
That hissed in fire: wild energy.
In might and by main force the three -
Wind, quake and rain - shrieked wordlessly.
But then the voice.
So must I turn my inward ear
To this small silence now drawn near.
This voice that will not force its way
Into my hearing, I invite
To utter now - for now I know
In this is God.