I wish I could take a quiet corner in the heart
of my baby’s very own world.
I know it has stars that talk to him,
and a sky that stoops down to his face
to amuse him with its silly clouds and rainbows.
Those who make believe to be dumb,
and look as if they never could move,
come creeping to his window with their stories
and with trays crowded with bright toys.
I wish I could travel by the road
that crosses baby’s mind,
and out beyond all bounds;
Where messengers run errands
for no cause between the kingdoms
of kings of no history;
Where Reason makes kites of her laws
and flies them, the Truth
sets Fact free from its fetters. ~ Rabindranath Tagore
With what stillness at last
you appear in the valley
your first sunlight reaching down
to touch the tips of a few
high leaves that do not stir
as though they had not noticed
and did not know you at all
then the voice of a dove calls
from far away in itself
to the hush of the morning
so this is the sound of you
here and now whether or not
anyone hears it this is
where we have come with our age
our knowledge such as it is
and our hopes such as they are
invisible before us
untouched and still possible ~ W. S. Merwin
English: The view from Sgiach nam Tarmachan, into the Eastern Corrie close to the summit Taken as the weather closed in and before visibility closed down. The picture can’t capture the cold the wind or the driving icy snow. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.
Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go. ~ Emily Brontë