The Word Spoken in the Desolate Country

it is addressed thusly:
A vision.
it reads:
Hard the wind blew, casting cold
Its fingers upon every upturned face
Scouring with steel wool every place
Ring upon ring the farthest wold
And twain stood, with side to side
Looking upon places far and wide;
One said: Does any yet live that desire?
See the wind: it moves earnestly
Its wants are simple; its actions, free
But it knows not the water from the fire.
The other said: man seems the same
For all his self-knowing is in vain;
One replied: if the wind could know
We must suppose it would understand
What it wished to pull from the land
Every mote caught up from below;
The other said: But man must think
As hearts must beat, eyes must blink;
The one then said: no return, then.
Eyes open, hearts must draw blood
Man must at least rise from the mud
It cannot be if, it must be when;
The other replied: but in his wealth
Man seems to only desire himself;
Well, said the one, would seem perverse
If a man wished to wish and not
Desired to be desired, for aught
Else but being beloved is of worth--?
But waiting to be desired, each to each
Sits alone, for love is out of reach.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Messages left under the doormat will be promptly decoded and a response may be issued.