A Sweet Voice

I have not walked to Bethlehem

Nor seen the ancient pyramids,

I still must read the Odyssey,

Homer, not Kazantzakis.

I have listened well to the Baroque,

The Romantic era moves me so,

Atonality I could not bear

Or the galloping prestissimo.

The sound of choirs in the night

Is the only heaven I shall find,

But the joy of earth that flowers here

Has blessed these eyes. I am not blind

To evil and the bitter fruit

That in our lives around us falls,

But symphonies of love I hear

And a sweet voice that sweetly calls.