Through the window on the wind
came a lilting voice
whispering sweetly through the room
to listen and rejoice.
I hear it murmur as I walk
in the dawn's soft pastel hue
and from the quivering grass
whisper in the fragile dew.
I hear it in the blue of day,
from the descending sun
and in the diamond points of stars
when day's mighty course is run.
I hear it whisper from the sea,
from the vast blue ocean's roar,
in and through the mighty rumble
of waves pounding upon the shore,
from the sea's deep canyons,
from inside the womb,
from the twisted helix of DNA
and rainforest's tangled gloom,
from birds that fly and sing,
from the springbok's speed and bound,
from ant and lion and dragonfly
I hear that self-same sound.
It's in the river, rain and cloud,
the wind and sun upon the sea,
whispering in a mighty voice
of one great sustained unity.
I hear the whisper murmur
earth is one vast intricate temple
in which in privileged wonder
I for a moment dwell,
not for digging holes,
or covetous greed and inequality,
nor the relentless brutality of war
or hardness against the refugee,
nor in the ignorance of pride,
or smug, self righteous vanity,
nor in oppression of the vulnerable
but desiring a unity
beyond our need for quantification
and cause, effect and explanation,
beyond the all too human horrors
of violence, greed and exploitation,
I listen to the whispering voice
in gentleness, praise and quiet devotion,
accepting that this temple time is
for love, peace and transformation.