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"It"

May 10, 2019

 

It plays upon the glowing sunset boughs,

   When shadows have enveloped all below,

And distant, other-worldly thoughts arouse

   A passion in the poet’s soul to go

      Beyond the earth, beyond the dark’ning sky,

      Where only unembodied spirits fly.

 

It beckons coyly in that certain look

   The woodland flower wears in the morning light,

Half-hidden in the shadows, by a brook

   Which murmurs gently, as if to invite

      The mind in endless beauties to immerse,

      Unfolding in its little universe.

 

It guides by unseen force the flock of birds

   That swirls and soars upon the twilight air,

And all that lives and breathes, as if by words

   Unspoken, though however unaware,

      Yet dance as its mysterious music sways

      And with our noblest thoughts of freedom, plays.

 

And then, it sometimes visits in a form

   That haunts like some gigantic destiny;

 The dark and threatening beauty of a storm

   Whose coming flash of jagged light we see,

      Yet feel, as all around the thunder rolls,

      A primal freedom sleeping in our souls

.

But most, I see it in another’s eyes,

   That sparkle when a thought is born within,

Or fill with tears when holy passions rise

   That speak of what could be, or could have been;

      And I am in the presence of a force

      That is all other earthly Beauty’s source.

 

 

Daniel is a poet living in Houston, Texas. He has spent much of his life fighting for the ideals of classical culture and poetry. Read more of his poetry and writings on culture. His volume of poetry, compiling over 20 years of composition, is entitled "Voices on the Wind."

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