You said you heard God's mouth move
without speaking. In all of my life,
I've not know a mute swan to sing
or my good father cry.
When we accept that fire is missing,
the unbroken, breaking, the sound
of two voices whispering prayer-
this is disappointment.
Here in this silence, we heal hours
we've wounded like roads of the city,
salt between stars, shadows of living,
the promise of heaven.
Have we lost the voice that rings
sensible, useful- desperate, beautiful;
not what we are that calls to God
but the very essence that's missing?
With opened eyes all our words
are speechless and I saw
a thunder cloud dissolve
in a quiet sky.
