I can remember my father waking up and calling out our names to check if we were all there.

And sometimes I think I hear you call.

A great owl, with yellow sulphurous eyes, called to him by his name, but he made it no answer.

That' s what we are called to do once again, in this moment - our moment - in history.

I then bade her call out to the queen of the little people to come and talk with us.