I I OFTEN wondered as I sat alone Why Someone came to earth, and placed his hands On dust, and molded it to sycamore And bird. Why should He want to use, as stone Is used by sculptors -- for a shape -- these lands? Why should He make a daisy, hellebore? A form is but a form, and it must die. Why build it if it is too frail to live Eternally? Is it a joy to break Stiff lines of silence to a mortal cry. Granted it is. The joy is small. Why give Infinity for Life which Death can take? II I saw a misty silver cloud and thought How lovely, but it did not satisfy As I had hoped. I watched low hills at dawn, Red cyclamen in wind. Why has He wrought Such things, and man? Men are pearl clouds. We cry When Time has breathed on them, and they have gone. If I could work with granite or with brass, I would not make a statue out of sand; Nor would I paint on frescoed walls, if I Could catch the awe of beauty in a mass Of stronger stuff. Why have a gorgeous land Where minutes only brittle, break, and die? III The worthy die. . . A body charged with flame, Head poised to majesty, hair thick and long, Eyes flashing pity, exultation -- all Emotions. . . all, lips piquant with a name, Voice silvery and cool with quiet song Are crushed to residue at Death's mere call. The residue remains. . . The strong are weak. . . @3Beauty is but a snow man who must melt.@1 If I could have Eternity and Space And Silence and sheer Love, I would not seek Other materials. . . All that I have felt Will pass as shadowing within this place. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH WE CAN'T WRITE OURSELVES INTO ETERNAL LIFE by DAVID IGNATOW BONDAGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO W.E.B. DUBOIS - SCHOLAR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON READING WHITMAN IN A TOILET STALL by TIMOTHY LIU |