How brave your voice sings
“here I am”,
Red-eyed Vireo,
wavering each note from on high
up on the green boughs
of bent and twisted winter’s fir
way up on Bald-Face Mountain
with the blood-stained rocks
of the Ausable River far below.
***
Weighted by the sweat I carry on my neck
despite my wobbly knees
I find I can sing along
“here I am” again
despite the beating
and my wrists stained by “stop it”
because I believe
I can turn rape into love
and John Brown’s sword into ploughshares.
***
And the silence of a million voices crying
changes to sing “Here I am”
note by wavery note
up into the heights where the stars are found.
“Here I am”
believing in the healing power of love
because nothing
is more lonely than singing
“Where are you?”