Whither does Time trot us? And is moonlight brightening the harness buckles as when children play beneath the rugs, guessing “Where are we?” and father drives home—home—beneath the stars?
12. THE REBUILDING OF REALITY
“Behold the sunshine, the green earth, the shining sea!” shouted my Eyes.
Said Heart: “Oh, I cannot; the realities I knew are gone! Death’s shadow is upon all this.”
“Well, it is yours to create realities anew,” smiled Death. “Hitherto (like the rest) you seem to have done it badly.”
13. THE TOKEN
Because of you I am insatiably curious about death.
Because of Him who imagined and made you I am able tranquilly to abide the time.
Shrivelled in His glory: scorched by His humour: because He has imagined and made you, I trust and am sure.