SONGS TO A.H.R.: 12. SHELTER by CALE YOUNG RICE

I have been out where the winds are,
And tossing tops of trees,
And clouds that sweep from rim to rim
Of blue infinities.
And all was a sound and sway there, a surging of unrest:
So now I am wanting silence, and the heart I love best.

Yes, and a quiet book, too,
Of pensive poetry,
In which to let the lines lapse
Away, unlessonedly.
For I shall gather, somehow, from the soft fire's glow,
And from the eyes I love best, all I need to know.

And hours shall slip to embers,
And on the hearth lie;
And every wind that blew me,
And every want, die.
Then I shall take the hand I love best, and turn to sleep;
And, if God wills, at dawn wake, again, to laugh or weep.

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