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poem submittted to "Snapshots of a Night Scene" poetry contest, Nette Onclaud, sponsor, 5/17/2026.
Oh nightingale, you rise like a small anointing in the dusk, your voice a trilling psalm of love and lament. You carry the mystique of prayer on your wings, a feathered liturgy drifting toward the listening sky. Oh nightingale, you sing from the chalice of stillness where God whispers, your syrinx a cipher of creation teaching silence to awaken. You carry ancient wisdom in your throat, a feathered oracle scripting prophecy on the wind.
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