How to answer what you can’t refuse

Like a fledgling, 
you'd stumble-fly 
day and night 

over the blind 
and ticking fields,
intent on that tendril 

of scent calling from beyond. 
Most of the time, you are fickle;
perhaps, others think, even 

unfaithful. But if you believe
the name carried on the breeze 
addresses you and no other,

you will follow the snow-
dusted tracks, cross
bridges of fog. 

Forests might crackle 
in the night, and towns 
burn to the ground.

Even if you'd heard it
only in a dream, 
you listen hard 

for the voice you know
you would recognize, almost 
as if it were your own.