David Wakeling

We are not men with loud voices.

Even though we shout and trumpet

The sun to rise,

We are not men with loud voices,

Forgive us, for locked within us,

Is a heart that yearns to speak,

And a soul yearns to be moved.

Morning comes

And we will rise and shout the sun to rise,

We are not men with loud voices,

We are beggars at the palace gates,

Shouting to be heard.

Though you are the twain of Night and Day,

And for you the sun will gladly rise,

Even at your slightest breath,

We are the men who shout the sun to rise,

Though we are not men with loud voices.

Locked inside the dove,

Is a heart that knows only flight,

Now is the time,

We are now willing to cease our voices,

And are now ready to

Let the prisoner in our hearts free,

We have crafted the pearl,

And wish to be washed back to the sea.