Looking out over rolling fields
across the village roofs and steeple spires
towards the verdant distant hills
(standing high and seated still).
Where I had stood, admired
the gently spreading view below,
surveyed the path by which I go…
From there the view was vast,
expansive all that I could grasp
and now I wonder who was there
(who could see this path more clear),
and if he knows my future here
beyond this track which disappears
amidst my dreams and fears…
And then as waking to the morning lark
or sparking camp-fire in the dark,
a gentle smile on moonbeam cheeks
or wishing on a star that streaks
(across the speckled heaven’s sheet).
I see Your face in blossomed flower
that moment now, an eternal hour…
I rise on its fragrance
as it floats on the air
lifting my sight,
which is now everywhere…
