You call my name
when I go to that place I don’t understand,
the one where the word for terror was unknown.
Your firm, tender voice reaches in,
helps pull me out
of history that feels like a drowning.
Reclamation becomes devotion.
New birds continue to perch on the tree,
a proof the threatening waters
did not claim me.
When you call, I return
from somewhere losing its strength
Difficult to say,
but I couldn’t do this alone.
I hear you call,