KALEIDOS Number 3 | Page 28

KALEIDOS

Chapter 2

The sun shines.

Birds pass.

The path lines

The grass.

I go through

The meads,

Far from woe

And deeds.

There is no hope

Now here,

Nothing to grope

For or fear.

Nothing: the sky

And the green earth;

A vague wonder why

There was birth.

This and no more,

This and my soul

And the sky o'er

This nothing's all.

I am again

The child I was,

Having no pain

More than the grass.

I live a life

Freed from the morrow

And forget strife

And sorrow.

What were the shapes

Of fear and hope?

Vines show their grapes

Down the hill‑slope.

This real hour

Shall not survive,

Yet shall't endure

Because I live.

So let the glades

And the sky's blue

In vague soul‑shades

My heart come through,

Till I become

An outward thing,

Having no home;

A breath, a wing,

A portionless

Part of the hour,

Outside the stress

Of being more.

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