At dawn a voice calls out,
Loud, yet seemingly whispering
through the blanket of dimly lit stars
of the early morning sky.
At dusk that voice calls out again.
Whispering through the sheets
of heavenly tints and hues.
Whispering, yet loud enough
to stir my soul with longing.
I stand gazing ; listening in silence
to the voice calling out
from the other end of the universe.