A Year of Poems – Day 154

I cannot elevate my mind past this station.
My hymn is elation, for I have seen creation,
and though it’s state is lessened,
and I may not see it mended
before my life is bent towards that silence
where the grass goes untended,
yet the birds sing so I sing
a song which will not be silenced;
It bends slowly towards the shout of justice
which will crack like the cymbal signaling the concert’s ending
echoing round the chamber,
completing the music begun hours before,
resounding in our heads a song more perfect
than I or the world could ever sing
as we press upwards past silence
to contemplate the source of the song.