Justine Mara Andersen
Drip drop on leaves, reflecting,
Shimmering pearls of silver glass,
I sing for fallen drops of rain,
Which never wet the grass.
When no wind blows the mangroves,
When even eagles dare not call,
A silence glassy as the lake,
Becomes in me as one in all.
Between the cries of forest owls,
Above the grass I wait to fall,
And hide my breath from wind,
From God, from you and all.
My voice alone does now endure,
I need you not to praise my song,
Though every verse I sing as one,
Know every fall I take is long.
For any word I write is so,
And any song I know is mine,
For any love I hold is here,
And any words I sing divine.