Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Look, how tiny down there, look: the last village of words and, higher, (but how tiny) still one last farmhouse of feeling. Can you see it? Exposed on the cliffs of the heart. Stoneground under your hands. Even here, though, something can bloom; on a silent cliff-edge an unknowing plant blooms, singing, into the air. But the one who knows? Ah, he began to know and is quiet now, exposed on the cliffs of the heart. While, with their full awareness, many sure-footed mountain animals pass or linger. And the great sheltered birds flies, slowly circling, around the peak's pure denial. - But without a shelter, here on the cliffs of the heart… | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ICE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON HIS SAVIOURS WORDS, GOING TO THE CROSSE by ROBERT HERRICK THE LAST CHANTEY by RUDYARD KIPLING GOD'S WORLD by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY WHEN I PERUSE THE CONQUER'D FAME by WALT WHITMAN METAMORPHOSES: 11. INVOCATION OF ISIS by LUCIUS APULEIUS MISADVENTURES AT MARGATE; A LEGEND OF JARVIS'S JETTY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |