Friday, January 10, 2020

The Bird in the Tree Ruth Pitter


The tree, and its haunting bird,

Are the loves of my heart;

But where is the word, the word,

Oh where is the art,



To say, or even to see,

For a moment of time,

What the Tree and the Bird must be

In the true sublime?



They shine, listening to the soul,

And the soul replies;

But the inner love is not whole,

and the moment dies.



Oh give me before I die

The grace to see

With eternal, ultimate eye,

The Bird and the Tree.



The song in the living Green,

The Tree and the Bird –

Oh have they ever been seen,

Ever been heard?