when I sometime forget this “things to do”,
heavy from woe of true-sight’s great burden,
I find a way back, all that I lack, through,
a friendly face, with what’s in me, certain.
to save the best for last—fast do we live,
racing, station to station, state to state,
doing everything we can not to give
but take and save and stir and store and wait—
unconsciously, and ever-honestly
when that surface-born brightness teaches
the way to please him and honorably—;
just as through the rain sunlight still reaches—
therewith, the air however subtle keeps,
the heat as it rises, transforms and seeps!