How I Hear Him
Kaye Whiting Romney

I hear Him
In the gentle breeze
Of leaves
Half-flushed
With green and gold.

I hear Him
In the silhouette
Of black Ash branches
Gnarled and old.

I hear Him
On the river rocks,
And then again on desert sand.

He touches me
In darkened caves
Where I reach out to hold His hand.

I hear Him
In the desperate darkness
When I toss and cannot sleep.
He knows at least, I then will listen –
to His voice in stillness deep.

I hear him in the Holy promise of the
Stained glass harvest wheat.
I hear Him as I kneel at alters
Where I plead for mercy sweet.

I hear Him when my will is swallowed
Up in His redemptive power.
When I confess my sins before Him –
Still, He loves me every hour.

This poem is part of the 2022 Psalms in Praise of Jesus Christ series.