Where does the wind from the wilding blow Troubling the dream-caught woods of dawn With hushed remembrance of woven music Out of the shadowy gates of horn? Under the still-fringed water-meadows Colour is veining the grassy ways. Over the dove-clad clouds of winter A lark's cry falls through the ringing haze. Wind and water and star-paled heaven Mingle in colour and whisper of wind. Earth and air call unto the Father. Can April wonder be far behind? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS MEMORY by HAYDEN CARRUTH ON A TUFT OF GRASS by EMMA LAZARUS LA RONDE DU DIABLE by AMY LOWELL PEACE ON EARTH by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON CHILD MARGARET by CARL SANDBURG |