Willow Pollen 9

Willow Pollen 9

WAIT AWHILE

 

 

I

 

If you would know my mother-heart,

Then wait awhile, be still;

Watch for the settling dusky light,

The silence, on the hill;

And wait awhile, be still.

 

 

II

 

Love, heed the clap of little hands,

Of leaves upon my trees;

And hear the travelling of the wind,

The moving of the seas;

Then wait awhile, be still.

 

 

III

 

If you would know my mother-heart,

But watch the wasting day!

The wind steps softly in the corn,

The light slips to the hill;

Love, wait awhile, be still.

 

 

 

 

INDIAN SUMMER

 

 

Blossoms shaken from their star forms

Back to earth,

Flying seedlings warm and waiting

Drift in sunlight with the going

Of the birds towards the south!

 

Birds are going!

They will sing before they go,

Fill the orchard with their mirth:

Song of harvest, song of summer, song of springtime,--

They remember it was April long ago!

 

We are parting,

You are going towards the south!

Love was birth.

Is this dying,--

Death my harvest, grief my summer, tears my springtime?...

Well, kiss me kindly,

Song is warmest on the mouth!

Give me love before you go!

 

 

 

 

A THOUSAND YEARS

 

 

A thousand years from now

No one will know that you and I

Lifted our arms to touch the sky

And clasped an empty vow,--

No one will know,

We loved so long ago!

 

A thousand years from now

We shall not hear the cry of hope

Linger, remember, echo, grope,

While mornings glow

And evenings come and go!

 

A thousand years from now

No one will know that we have slept

Breast to each other’s breast and wept,--

No one will know

We loved so long ago!

 

A thousand years from now

We shall not see love welcome death,

Dreams harden into frosted breath,

Spring burn the apple bough

While mornings glow

And evenings come and go!

 

 

 

 

THE BROKEN DOOR

 

 

This is the place! I know

The broken door, the ragged bed of bloom

Where poppies grow,

Row after row.

 

This is the place.

A year ago, her footprint

Marked the garden path

With tender hollow.

 

But now?

Time’s step is slow to follow.

 

 

 

 

ONLY YOUR NAME

 

 

Sometimes I wake from sleep

Only your name drawing across my lips

In creeping wind from unlit space,

No star sparks flickering on that wind,

No signal tree top touched with racing light,

No lantern-memory hung to show the way;

Only a pathless name,

Dark, terrible, meaningless because most near!

And yet I never knew you,--

Only your name and pain!

 

 

 

 

REPETENDS

 

 

In the still woods I find your eyes,

I hear your voice once more

And the far-singing hermit thrush

Beyond our northern door.

 

In the still woods pale repetends

I find of death and grief

In fallen nest and perished bee

And sepulchre of leaf.

 

 

 

 

TOO LATE

 

 

It is too long, too long!

My heart grows old with grieving

For the touch of you.

 

It is too far, too far!

My eyes are dazed

With searching emptiness,--

The dark, the blurred horizon

With its dust of other feet.

 

It is too late, too late!

Gray thoughts stalk round me

With their death.

I strike my tent,

I go.

Not even dreams can bring you now,--

Too long, too far, too late!

 

 

 

 

THE TIDE

 

 

I shall find you when the tide comes in,--

A shell, a sound, a flash of light

To live with me by day,

To dream with me by night.

 

You come and go

As waters flow;

You lap me round

You pour me full;

A shell at rest

You touch my breast.

I feel your will,

And I am bound

By light, by sound;

To love you still.

 

I shall find you when the tide comes in,--

A shell, a sound, a flash of light.

Men say you died.