I awake in this exile,
dreaming the owl’s question.
I wear a close frost coat,
share the mouse’s blanket
of fur, warmth and feathers.
I awake in this exile,
see the unblinking eyes,
hear the thunder of doves,
tremble in the ardent chill
of water, piercing fire, and light.
I awake in this exile,
shiver in the sunlight,
shake my melting self in wonder
and wait to hear my Christian name.
–Glen Larum