On softer air than wind

There is a voice

That goes on softer air than wind

Into the lily's horn

Out to the tip of arm-crossed bows

It is no fool of the tongue 

Or language and it's weepings

No, it speaks, moves, mimes and spits

All the fibers of the human clothe

That do stretch far

In brocade and gingham, silk and yarn

And to the deepest down particle - 

Shakes to make and atom breathe

Is there a place where it stops

  To listen to things that grow and tremble

And when they fall too quiet to hear

Does it stoop 

There is no taming of its song

Oh not the gentle wildness that always

Turns and twists into every placid corner

To form a flash where beauty lives

And pulls every good and perfect 

With every bad and broken

Into the everlasting melody