The pre-dawn wind billowed my blanket, and I awoke.
And the dust that pillowed my head entreatingly spoke:
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Last night while we slept gentle rain fell over the land.
The valley at daybreak was a crystal cup in God’s hand.
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This morning the dust in Love Street was a stream of flags,
And every scrubby beggar had shaved and patched his rags.
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When Dawn tended her rose garden in the eastern sky
I passed along Love Street and heard a distraught one sigh:
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The eternal Awakener of lovely spring
Has waked all the earth, and hearts and birds and flowers sing.
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Unless one takes up the matter of apprenticeship
To love, one will never kiss the winecup’s gleaming lip.
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When we have become tired of the mind’s shiny new toys
I’ll seek the adult occupation which manhood enjoys:
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There are two things that concern all men: tomorrow’s bread
And a star to shine in that darkness we call our bed.
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The wells are drying up, but the mercy of God flows on;
The dust storms obscure the sun, but the shining Word goes on.
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