THE FORCE THAT THROUGH THE GREEN FUSE DRIVES THE FLOWER

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The force that through the green fuse drives the flower 
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees 
Is my destroyer. 
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose 
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.

The force that drives the water through the rocks 
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams 
Turns mine to wax. 
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins 
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

The hand that whirls the water in the pool 
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind 
Hauls my shroud sail. 
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man 
How of my clay is made the hangman's lime.

The lips of time leech to the fountain head; 
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood 
Shall calm her sores. 
And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind 
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

And I am dumb to tell the lover's tomb 
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.


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This page contains a single entry by writch published on May 1, 2009 10:29 PM.

Biased Message Processing was the previous entry in this blog.

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