In the silent push of a secret force
I felt impelled like a stream
In a living wood that spoke to me
While gently, gently the layers around my heart
Were pulled away and I left crying,
No words for the one who stood asking
As I emerged from the green —
What’s the matter? What’s the matter? —
But only my tears on her shoulder in reply.
Would she have believed me if I had said
I have just come back from the dead?
What is this power which can rise in a human heart
And lift him free and say —
You think you have suffered in your little human round?
Roam loose then this great universe of pain,
You who cannot bear the little pricks of life
If you dare —
And then return him to consider
The meaning of a life that has no death.
This gentle hand which has pushed me
And made me feel so empty
that I could not bear my life
And then led me into loving arms
And quiet spaces where silent stone spoke
Of wisdom unfathomable, profund
Has found for me at every step
The aid I cried for in my heart and mind
And secret soul.
