Contrast
In an old world palace,
Room after room
Is filled with treasures—
Old masters, jewels, glass.
Yet all I remember
Is the stark whiteness of a gardenia
Blowing against a wall,
And the fairy music of a fountain
In the patio.
Surety
I needed the dawn, but
My eyes beheld only clouds
And a valley filled with mists
And a mountain shutting out the east.
I needed the dawn, so
I could but wait.
Surely,
Slowly
Through the clouds
The light came,
Like a presence
Dispelling mist and cloud:
Even the mountain
Could not hide it.
My eyes beheld all clear,
And in the roseate glow,
Like a diamond,
Hung the morning star.
Guests
There was emptiness
When the birds left in the fall.
But to fill it came late butterflies,
Dawdling flocks of brilliant things
In clouds of scintillating beauty,
Covering every bush and flower.
As silently as they came did they disappear
And in their place came the music
Of the katydid and the cricket.
Day and night the cheerful songs
Of these tiny insects were our company.
An early blizzard
Buried every green blade and bent to earth
Great trees and slender saplings
Under a thick weight of snow.
To our door came the thrushes
That we thought were gone,—
Shy thrushes, that had turned their backs
Upon us in summer and slipped
Into the depth of the woods,—
And whitethroats and tree sparrows,
Unafraid, waiting for food.
Even now the stillness is alive
With the memory of these friendly folk.