My cat hears it before I do.
She lifts her head from my lap
and cocks her ears.

What is it?
I ask.
Her eyes widen.

Then the ribbon of sound
lilts on the morning air,
a high call,
a harmonizing wail,
and the full chorus
sings in the dawn.

Such is the practice of
listening to the subtle Voice,
the singular Sound.

Surrounded by silence,
I cock my head
and tune to the trilling Love.

Only in the stillness
does it come
and with one purpose:

To remind me who I am,
this bountiful, eternal wisp of God,
as tender as that first coyote note,

but ever expanding
into the full chorus
of my true being.

And the melody only strengthens,
teaching me how to live
that wild Love in all life,

and pass it along
to my cat and dog friends,
my mate and neighbor,

filling the Universe
with its sweet song.