Saying this is like speaking to the wind
As if it will carry my voice to your ear
its hush as I say your name
or like you hearing my words
in a bird's song
the whistle of notes a perfect melody
and still I dream it
still I wake to voice you
to say those words
However wide the worlds
that breath blows in
it travels
across rocks, oceans,
wide plains of grass
your name echoed
a thousand times
in the leaves of wheat
in the sinking whoosh of the sunset
Hear the voice
calling out
calling you home
stand in this place and hear me
All the world stops
What reaches my waiting ear,
the sound of my own name.

By the Corbyhawk herself