Oct. 30, 2010
I watch the swallows skim the silent lake The welcome call of all the earth drifts by My soul sees all and I from silence take The song of OM, my chant of destiny.
Silver notes upon the wafting breeze And golden tones plucked on golden strings The music in the roots of towering trees These strains of hope that every sunrise brings.
Far now from me the frigid winter nights And crystal patternings of ice on glass The snow descending on the dim street lights, My crackling steps upon the frozen grass.
No more to hear the snow-clad branches break Or sledding down with dangerous glee the hill For in the heat of India I wake And of her fragrances I take my fill.
I walk again the country of my soul Seek not in the easy life to spend my days Nor count the years that must exact their toll But joyously to sing my songs of praise.
Poems Undated (1727)
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