Tell Me, Wind

West wind, lost wind, let me hear your voice.
Where are the hours of my rejoicing,
The fresh, green, shimmering hours of my hope?
Gone on the tired breath of night.
Lost forever on the vagrant shadow.

Whisper, wind.
Where are the eyes of dreaming love,
The tender, seeking lips?
Quiet footfalls down a cool, dim lane
Have glided them away,
Gradually,
Gradually,
But forever.

The pattern of life becomes plainer now.
I thought it was a crazy-quilt
For me to design as I went along,
Helter-skelter -
It would come out bright and cheerful.
Now I think life is an ordered garden.
The roses are radiant
But few
And they grow on bushes full of thorns.
One must work ceaselessly to keep out the weeds.
One's back aches and one's hands are calloused
All for the fleeting pleasure of a thorny rose.

Tell me, wind:
Does one ever learn the secret of contentment?
Is it hidden in the white heart of a flower?

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