I hear your call
I hear it far away;
I hear it break the circle
Of these crouching hills
I want to view your face
Again and feel your cold
Embrace; or at your brim
To set myself and
Inhale your breath ; or
Like the trees, to watch
My mirrored self unfold
And span my days with
Song from the lips of dawn.
I hear your lapping call;
I hear it coming through;
Invoking the ghost of a child
Listening , where rivers birds hail
Your silver –surface flow
My river’s calling too
Its ceaseless flow impels
My found ‘ ring canoe down
Its inevitable course.
And each dying year
Brings near the sea – bird call,
The final call that
Stills the crested waves
And breaks in two the curtain
Of silence of my upturned canoe
O incomprehensible God!
Shall my pilot be
My unborn stars to that
Final call to Thee
O my river’s complex course?