misty clover fields made yesterday
moonrise over the blue bay.
mown they lie, and wan, blossom and grasses
their sweet souls up as the wind passes.
shy white stars of the dawn refuse to stay
morning grows up into lusty day.
childlike naked clouds, cutting their capers,
sea winds melt into the mightier vapours.
million waves of the ever-sounding shore
lavishly their singing light outpour;
rhyme with the young limbs leaping,
all the world’s lost poems, if we knew them.
pilgrim world, your light and glory go
sunrise way, and no abiding know.
down the great road of the ages ringing
is your step, and I can hear you singing.
rounded but not ended with a sleep.
here’s no rest, nor anything to keep.
all things pass with an increasing splendour
circle to circle of their spiritual being,
like mist sun-slain (a like surrender)
Spheres far too fine and lovely for our seeing.
Copyright © 2008 [Fen Tyler]