A Lark Awakening

brown feathers curled into a body
folded in the form of night
I have an unknown friend
hidden in the mystery of the mind

unexpectedly I stir
in that still hour
before dawn dissolves the memory
a call to communion

so sweet this voice
that sharpens all my senses
why do I hear my name
do I deserve

such an understanding -
caught in the seamless beauty
of your song
my soul sings

© Richard Scutter 4 September 2004