The Visitor

I am going to see the cardinal, Before he comes see me,

In stares of wondered wondrousness at why I learned to sing,

He listens to me playing dice with my eternity.

I’m going to see the cardinal,

Before he can see me.

A visitor from Heaven came

on wings that still look free,

In unknown song of joy to us,

he singing flies toward me.

Still I will hear the cardinal now his judgment soft and free.

We watch the wind all laughing now,

while angels homeward weep,

Nearby the seeds in cold still grow,

The leaves still cling to trees.

But I’m going to see the cardinal,

before he comes see me,

And watch the larks all standing ‘round in silent reverie.

-Albert Turner Goins