“I thirst.” and the damp settled.
And my languid arms like languid branches
Sagged beneath unwanted weight.
A cloud, a breeze would cheer
Or butterfly with bright orange wing
Would lift a smile in a moment
For a moment. Then in dry heat
Again, it settles, wearied with that old
Hunger.
I seek.
He whispers, “Take and eat.”
Around I look and see the waving
Of singing branches, my eyes
Too full of tears for singing.
Soon this all is dust.
There, beneath my feet I feel
The forgotten cracks throughout this crust
Of earth in which I stand. A sense
Of something warm, immense--
A whisper, “Come and drink.”
Sink my roots more deep. He says,
“Eat and Drink. And you
shall never die.”
There touches fire
That does not consume.
Revived, my branches lift and face the sun
Ah, there are those from whom I come--
One smiles, “Where your roots?”
“What you have found beneath this ground,”
One says, “cannot be truth.”
Roots deep, veins aflame, branches sweep
In breeze and sun--what shall I say?
"Come and see, that Heart
that never lies."
