Call

Dark.
The lights in the room are off,
The sun not yet risen,
Even the city lights muted: poised
For a new day.
The road outside is quiet,
Birds still-aroost
Cars and buses still parked in
Garages and silent lots.
What noise is this?
A muffled conversation?
A phone or a computer booting up?
Low and querulous, the noise
Creeps in from the window,
Steals over the unlit space.
Music.
A threnody? A question? An invitation?
A demand?
Before the music has concluded,
Another tone joins in –
A second call.
Lower than the first and less mournful.
The first plays out as the second plays in
And plays on.
Now the window is full of music
Like cellos
But not cellos.
Soon the faithful will
Go to pass under the minarets
One needn’t leave the dark
To be called to prayer.