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Day and Night

Rainy Morning

page 2

Rainy Morning

Early in the morning I stood pondering
Intricate interchange of shadow on the dreaming hills.
Soluble colour, moss-green by purple-grey penetrated,
Brown into blue turning, brief gleam of gorse gilding
Softened solidity of sheep-sustaining access,
Of water-fashioned gully soft decline.

Eonial form. Ephemeral coloration.
Ascribable to slow, hesitant, soft clouds hanging
Low overhead, brooding, meditating rain, rain.
At footside, spherical soft clover-head,
Whitish and murry-shaded, spicy.…
Into the dream there crept a little bird-voice,
Again, again, again insinuating his small essential song.

Soliloquy’s no song, once spake a pundit. But
  not guilty, Sir!
Not self-sufficient, soul, nor little hidden bird.

Spirit of Beauty, here, hovering, informing, prevalent,
To thee, to thee, to thee, we sing reconnaissant!
Here, where still solitude unseals thy casket
Of sovran wealth, we secretly salute thee!
Again, again, again, the invisible rain-bird,
Never, never seen, but ever heard,
Repeats, assured, his sweet eight-noted lay;
To thee, to thee, to thee making
Plain, plain, his quiet statement
Of pure, serene, unquestioned pain,
Unquestionable joy.