Good Company |
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To-day I have grown taller from walking with the trees,
The seven sister-poplars who go softly in a line;
And I think my heart is whiter for its parley with a star
That trembled out at nightfall and hung above the pine.
The call-note of a redbird from the cedars in the dusk
Woke his happy mate within me to an answer free and fine;
And a sudden angel beckoned from a column of blue smoke -
Lord, who am I that they should stoop - these holy folk of thine?
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The redbird is the core of fire at the heart of by still living;
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Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh,
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WHEN the tall bamboos are clicking to the restless little breeze,
And bats begin their jerky skimming flight,
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He comes; I hear him up the street--
Bird of ill omen, flapping wide
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Under the level winter sky
I saw a thousand Christs go by.
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Some days my thoughts are just cocoons- all cold, and dull and blind,
They hang from dripping branches in the grey woods of my mind;
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Roland Robinson
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
