Out of nothing we are made, Our cities rise upon the void, And in chromium-plated bars, Shadows drink their fill of tears, Women's transient fingers pass Over silks and flowers and glass, Cameras and motor-cars Spin on the hub of nothingness On which revolve the years and stars. Beyond the houses and the fields Rise the forest-shrouded hills, And upon each leaf is traced The pattern of the eternal mind That summons kingdoms from the dust. Above the forests lie the clouds, White fields where the soaring sight Rests on the air's circumference, And distant constellations move About the centre of a thought By the fiat of that love Whose being is the breath of life, The terra firma that we tread, The divine body that we eat, The incarnation that we live. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONGS ON THE VOICES OF BIRDS; SEA-MEWS IN WINTER TIME by JEAN INGELOW EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH, L.H. by BEN JONSON IN FLANDERS FIELDS by JOHN MCCRAE THE HAYMAKER'S SONG by ALFRED AUSTIN SWORD AND BUCKLER; OR, SERVING-MAN'S DEFENCE: INTRODUCTION by WILLIAM BASSE A SKIER by ARTHUR STANLEY BOURINOT SANDY STAR: 1. SCULPTURED WORSHIP by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |