 | New poems by Madison Cawein |  |
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VOICES
I
I heard the ancient forest talk,(Its voice was like a wandering breeze):
It said, “Who is it comes to walk
Along my paths when, white as chalk,
The moon hangs o'er my sleeping trees?
What presence is it no one sees?”
II
And then I heard a voice reply,That seemed far off yet very near;
It sounded from the earth and sky,
And said, “A spirit walketh here,
Whom mortals know as Awe and Fear.
Terrible and beautiful am I.”
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III
And then I heard the meadows say,(Their voice was as the sound of streams,
Or rain that comes from far away):
“Who sits amid us here and dreams,
When sunlight on our blossoms gleams,
And keeps us company all day?”
IV
And then I heard a voice intone,A voice not near yet all around:
“I am that spirit, yea, thine own,
Who worketh wonders in the ground:
Some call me Love that hath no bound,
And I am beautiful alone.”
| New poems by Madison Cawein | |