Prelude to Heaven
St. Paul said he was carried upward - either in person
or in dreams, he could not tell which, so vivid was the memory.
But always ever after his life was different.
What ever he did there was with him that strength from heaven.
Once not so long ago there was created
on this earth a little spot like heaven.
and always and forever its memory and its vision
of true values and happiness, will go through the world
with certain men and women.
And reduced to pure ideal still travel on
through their children and their children's children.
On the earth there is still a certain meadow, and a run.
A barn and a corn house - green fields and woods,
lanes and walnut trees.
a grandmother's favorite locust trees
a willow, a little boy planted
And close in among them are visions - a black horse named Jack,
Rolly, and old Fox, and a galloping herd.
A clear voice calling sheep
little piles of white salt on the ground.
A path through the woods and a dog wood tree
Letting down bars and a clover field.
The road to the mill, up hill and down.
The old Stone spring house and Virginia creeper vine.
Lewis is churning and telling his tales.
Frogs jumping into cold water,
rippling over silver leaves and stones like alabaster.
Peach ice cream a gallon or two
The path to the ice house,
Edd coming, slowly, with a wheel barrel full,
Tinkling cold and a very deep snow,
galloping horses and the Rock Hall sleigh.
the sweetest sleigh bells ringing
they are old bells and they have rung
for generations of Rock Hall children.
“Turn to the right at the cross roads and on
till you come to two gates opposite to each other
the one has a tree by it."
down through the Rock Hall break
and across the run
and there on a hill is standing - Rock-Hall.
with its lovely trees.
Driving around the circle of ever green, planted in front
It's always cool and breezy in the hall,
"if you walk up and down it fifty times
you've walked a mile." "I've done it"
"You can see Charles Town when you climb up to the top
of that fir tree."
First to the "big rock" and then to the "run."
"Grapes and cycle pears are ripe."
These are only outside hints. The best memories are really
too good to touch but life was given.
St. Paul never told what heaven was like.
1909
Growing Older
Now I can understand
the mysterious chess player
pondering over his men
for hours.
in a long line of
intricate imaginative moves
then the master stroke -
a decisive step is taken
consequences unroll
the game widens,
deepens he is more and more absorbed.
The artist in a burst of pleasure
swings in his design
Then more and more intricate -- grow his colors and line
with more and more thought
must each move be taken
a long line of reasoning backs up
a master stroke
as carefully he pulls his playful
loving ideas into
the living structures
into the life of a whole
and his game is finished.
The artist is the winner and loser both in his game
He finished this one but now he sees
that he should paint much better
In the spirit of the loser he begins another.
1944
[Untitled]
A little bird is singing in
The rose vine on my porch -
her own particular song.
Far away in the woods
some other birds are singing.
her accomplement.
And from the meadows in between
there comes another tune.
So our ears rejoice.
in the beauty of the music
these little birds set up.
Silently mysteriously
creeping into consciousness
there comes another orchestry -
The grass, each plant in my garden
The willow tree and the pine.
Each one is giving
A quiet complete little tune.
Leaves in clusters, leaves in swirls
balanced leaves in line
rhythmic patterns in a thousand sets
and five thousand colors sound.
Eyes compose an orchestry more
Beauteous than ears.
[Eyes can see and choose out an
orchestry more beautiful than
ears can hear.]
