Sometimes, great sorrows seem unshareable,
They can shut us up into ourselves
Making us impenetrable,
And others are left to wander
On the outer frames of our souls,
Only occasionally poking their heads inquisitively
Into the deep mystery beneath.
Are you lonely or have you bloomed?
Will there grow flowers where you’ve walked?
Are you brave or are you lost?
Will you stay quiet or will you talk?
Into a sky or out to sea,
Will your petals fly or will they fall?
When roads are empty,
When the world is asleep,
Will your colors fade or
Will you walk on ?
In the glow of evening stars
Soul-winds lace the growing tides
And shades the dimming sky,
And as twilight ripens
We forget the worries of the past.
And hearts that burn and ache with pain
From memories that robs and steal
The peace from blessed sleep
Will set aside the toiling world
And quest anew for a love-blest day
And let hope again infuse the heart
With the sun’s boon of wonder.
Like Gold Dust on the sea
Or darkling voices in the rain
The pulse of a dream
Echoes its rhythmic refrain
In the morning hour.
And every wildwood,
Every scattered spirit-bloom
Whose voice was silent,
Hum with leaves in untrodden ways.
And lyrics from shadows
Who seldom shine
Unwrap the distance from sober grays
And write in pools of lucent gloom
The response to the night’s yielding strain:
An immortal dream glimmering
Like a mirrored eternity of sky
In the spirit-hollows
Of your slowly waking mind.
There are countless shadows
Tangled with the spring’s unbroken green
And you are the light-stemmed ripple,
The sway that unties dreams,
Without the strive or turmoil
But with the weariness of heart
Your thirst remains unkindled
Yet the rain is never far.
It lashes the restless beauty,
But the world cares only for stars.
So chasers walk by the edge of day
Refusing to sip the night,
While divers swim through the darkest skies
To speak for those whose lips are dry
And bear storms to feed the unseen light.
Here, unseen by mocking eyes, you hide.
Wrapped in leaves of solitude
And crowned by the blackest night.
With a heart of thornless roses
You quietly stand by
While the world is quenched
Caught by the petals
of your eyes.
Yet, the drinkers will never know
That it was you
Who gave birth to their sunrise.