there is a spirit which moves within me.
dwells inside me, as me.
i may be standing in the center of a room,
crowded or alone,
and i am suddenly overcome
with the sensation of being spoken to
words without words
as they touch like the passing bend
of an invisible wing.
a movement of a love
so deep the veins respond
quietly, joyfully, reverently.
i can only imagine that god,
whatever she is,
this is the way
of her enchanting echo
a vibration
ever ancient and eternal.
like pale summer evenings
extend their burning fingers
through trees.
Allison Marie Conway 