We are the quarrel of Sparrows
Autumn's dark rain
the Beetle under the floor board
the Ghost calling your name
the Shadow on the wall
the Reflection in the pool
the step in the Dark
the Unanswered call.
We are the Presence under the door
the Harbinger in the gloom
the Dead under the moor
the Face on the moon.
We are the Dust under your feet
the Speck in your eye,
the Crack in the sidewalk
the truth in every Lie.
We are the Chill up your spine
the Hot Breath on your neck
the slipped errant thought
and the Song you can't forget
We are Portents,
you our Supplicants
Pay Attention
or we will speak louder.
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