The Architect
The Architect
Spring dawns in me a season without strife,
Petals of understanding, blossoms fall
Of harmony that lighten this labour of life;
I wake to the sound of the skylark’s call
And the singing lessons of the rising day.
The branches of my arms are filled with flowers,
Time has lost its meaning; in the ray,
I live above the slowly passing hours.
I have deeply loved and love, like a tree
Grows within this secret heart of mine,
Forever young, unbound, eternally
Aware of his magnificent design,
The architect who dreaming fills all space
And sets the path of every galaxy.
All beauty rests so easy on his face
That we, though blind, still at times can see.
