POEMS/ Antiphonies
(Photo by Greg Schneider)
Antiphonies
When the loon calls its mate
breaking the quiet surface of the lake
the sound becomes the eldritch
wail of a ghost voice
reflected from the mountains.
When the loon calls
deep within me comes a cry
no one else can hear--
call rising from a hidden place,
sanctuary of a sleeping force
that rarely wakes,
but when the loon calls
I call back.
No human hears my call
though in my ears
it choruses in full hosanna--
drums and flutes and trumpets
winging out a music
that lifts me up and up
until the sound of the loon’s call
and my spirit’s anthem
are fused as one.
When the loon calls
the still water
claps its hands
against the silent shore
as if it heard us both.
From All Roads Go Where They Will, 2010
When the loon calls its mate
breaking the quiet surface of the lake
the sound becomes the eldritch
wail of a ghost voice
reflected from the mountains.
When the loon calls
deep within me comes a cry
no one else can hear--
call rising from a hidden place,
sanctuary of a sleeping force
that rarely wakes,
but when the loon calls
I call back.
No human hears my call
though in my ears
it choruses in full hosanna--
drums and flutes and trumpets
winging out a music
that lifts me up and up
until the sound of the loon’s call
and my spirit’s anthem
are fused as one.
When the loon calls
the still water
claps its hands
against the silent shore
as if it heard us both.
From All Roads Go Where They Will, 2010