Based on a conversation I had when I was in Denver, Colorado in August of 2007. Reflecting on hearing God.

I used to write it clear
For all the world to hear,
Night was like an endless
Shadow, the world a darkened
Meadow to walk in, steady and
Faithful was me, steady and able,
Willing was I, a learner’s permit
I carried, you are my graduation,
My attenuation carried my situation,
More of His voice, more of His words
To pierce inside of me, the rooftops
Cried out to me, city of thin air, city
I could hear, Denver diner to be clear,
I want to hear, I want to fear, I want
To be near to Him, that fire within, that
Flame again, on the rooftop we talked,
The conflagration, the situation, endless
Nights fighting the break of dawn, fighting
The yawn, killing a weak flesh, weekdays
With Him, weekends within, the end to come
And the world to grow numb, I write it clear
Now, all is not clearly, I am growing elderly,
Grays to soon come, let me not grow cold
As I get old—for I burn to hear—His voice
Speaks, His voice seeks, His voice reaches
In the thinnest air, in the lowest valley,
On the highest point of the mountains,
The interstate, the time to not hesitate,
Live in on the freeway, your daily life,
Your mundane operation—but can I
Hear Him, hear Him clearly