A Silent Observer Speaks
'He rained on me,' the Silent Letter said...
But all I brought to him, were words of Joy!
(But here, he says, "that Rain was of Delight!
Of tender thoughts, for I was once a Boy...)
'He cannot know my Mission, sighed the Disappointed Page:
To take Him by the hand, and lead him Home
To quiet books and havens, free from arrogance or rage,
To fastnesses, where blooms the scent of loam,,,'
(But here, he says, "epistle! Friend!
I'd bring no grief to thee!")
And then, he smoothes the soft folds out,
Leans back against a tree
Beneath which, loves were shared and shed...
Soft now! That tree... is me!
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