The Call

I hear its call,

distinct and chill

as a winter wind.

 

It calls for me

with its quiet

low and insistent

din.

 

Its voice is certainty

and uncertainty:

from beyond

the flow of

life

and the busy thoughts

that possess these fading days.

 

It calls with

greater clarity

than it did

in younger days

when only

possibilities

were heard.

 

I hear it call

like a trickling stream

that flows cold

in my veins.

 

Its voice,

like that of the Sirens,

draws me in,

and not even fear

can hold it back.

 

I hear the call

and I must go

to the places

it will take me.

 

26-7-2011

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s