I hear it call through the morning fog,
a sound that only an angel can make.
It reverberates throughout the dale
and it never fails to reach my heart.
A sensuous sigh, a winsome whimper,
a whisper that repeats again and again.
And again I hear you. An echo breaking,
taking the silence of solitude to new heights.
Right when the sun crests the horizon,
and I am rising to a new morning, a dawning
that exudes your sound of angelic splendor.
I will surrender to your call until the next sunset falls.
© Walter J. Wojtanik