A Still Small Voice

I.  A Still Small Voice

If ravenous winds didn’t claw your house apart
Turn it upside down
And shake everything loose–
Every dark crevice and dust-filmed corner robbed of their secrets–
Would you still, even now
Just be sitting there on the porch, cool evening,
Begging for a revelation
While a quiet breath brushed your hair,
Stroked your delicate neck–
Oh, LORD, please, LORD,
just one small sign.

K. Ashby



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