Oracles whisper to beggars or nobles,
pilgrims or poets,
all can clearly hear words un-uttered.
Tongues of angels declare such reality
to those who most need
expressions from worlds as yet unseen.
This is no illusion, un-worded speech
like spears of pure light
renews each ear listening for Paradise.
Contact is made with
interchange between land and sea
at day's beginning,
water burbling to a tuneful breeze,
bee and bird singing
with flora's chorusing at just being
alive, each fragile leaf
dancing to symphonic wind-tease,
all excels merely
to self, this then is that piercingly
dumb language that
Oracles celebrate and ask us to feel.