I am trying to explain the delicacy
of our private language
to a sparrow,
hoping the drab bird
will understand enough
to translate it
and let it pour
across morning
outside our window.
I hope it will mean something.
I hope it will succeed
in bringing what we say
into fuller being.
I hope nature draws it in,
holds it close, passes it back.
I want to hear it in the rain.
I want you to hear it
in the rain and wind.
I want what we whisper
to one another
to become a shout
everyone hears.
Make it a battle cry,
rally chant, holy song,
Love, you know:
what we say in secret
to each other
could carry the world
if they could
understand it.
