The foghorn sounds in the mysterious
mists.. a lonely call for his mate.
The train whistles
beckon to our desire.
The sea sings to the shore.
In Siberia snow falls soundlessly.
In a world beyond time
Horses' hooves on cobbled stones,
the crash of the cataract,
the boom of the ocean,
the cheerful babbling of the brook,
.. the first trill of absolute joy
from a predawn bird.. a trill
which is a sword to
Dracula's night curtains.
First and last, God is in our
ears.