"The glacier knocks in the cupboard, The desert sighs in the bed, And the crack in the teacup opens A lane to the land of the dead."

-W.H. Auden

Sunday, May 29, 2022

Some Day We'll See Everything


Street sounds, Austin, Texas, 5/19/22 6:05 PM.

No longer a dark and windy October night but a sunswept May afternoon, I looked again at my reflection and saw at last I was whole. 

2 comments:

  1. Ah, could I lay me down in this long grass
    And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind
    Blow over me—I am so tired, so tired
    Of passing pleasant places! All my life,
    Following Care along the dusty road,
    Have I looked back at loveliness and sighed;
    Yet at my hand an unrelenting hand
    Tugged ever, and I passed. All my life long
    Over my shoulder have I looked at peace;
    And now I fain would lie in this long grass
    And close my eyes.
    Yet onward!
    Cat birds call
    Through the long afternoon, and creeks at dusk
    Are guttural. Whip-poor-wills wake and cry,
    Drawing the twilight close about their throats.
    Only my heart makes answer. Eager vines
    Go up the rocks and wait; flushed apple-trees
    Pause in their dance and break the ring for me;
    And bayberry, that through sweet bevies thread
    Of round-faced roses, pink and petulant,
    Look back and beckon ere they disappear.
    Only my heart, only my heart responds.
    Yet, ah, my path is sweet on either side
    All through the dragging day,—sharp underfoot
    And hot, and like dead mist the dry dust hangs—
    But far, oh, far as passionate eye can reach,
    And long, ah, long as rapturous eye can cling,
    The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake,
    Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road
    A gateless garden, and an open path:
    My feet to follow, and my heart to hold.

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