81 (thou art a glimmer of)
THOU ART A glimmer of gold from the dawn on my life's shore,
a dew-drop on the first white flower of autumn.
Thou art a rainbow from the distant sky
bending o'er the dust,
a dream of the crescent moon
touched with a white cloud,
thou art a secret of paradise
revealed by chance to the earth.
Thou art my poet's vision,
appearing from the days
of my forgotten birth,
thou art the word that is never for utterance,
a freedom that comes in the form of a bondage,
for thou openest the door for me
to the beauty of a living light.