Covenant

I heard no voice -
or perhaps
silence was its own voice -
Small, and so very soft.
It whispered, just beyond
my hearing.

But it sang
in my blood.
It ran through my body
and burned my hands,
which lay idle.
It drummed a beat
that moved my heart
in a syncopated rhythm.
Not a waltz
Nor a tango
But my feet,
which had been still -
as still as my idle hands -
Moved.

They danced with the
Voice that had no sound
That sang in my blood
And moved my hands
And beat in steady rhythm
So I danced.
So I sing
the song of the voiceless,
the small and softly silent ones,
And stumble on broken bits of
scattered, shattered tablets.
And I dance,