VIOLET CUTBILL POETRY ~ ‘The Magic Hour’
Violets ~ Image from Henna by Heather
Eager am I, O Fate, to sojourn here,
To sojourn lovingly on this dear earth,
Until thy summons fall upon mine ear,
And bid me rise and meet Thee face to face.
Eager! So I can rise and welcome
Thy stern call, in solemn joy, when’er it come;
No apprehension in my heart, no wistful
Questioning, nor undue sorrow or regret
To part from that which cometh not again;
Nor yet lament for sweet delights foregone,
Since all Earth’s fairest things are incomplete
With latent hope of what the longing heart
May ne’er attain: blossom never to fruition
Brought, or joys still-born in pain.
Photo : Anastasia Tsarskaya
Eager! ~ Not always so! ~ Not always so!
Some day a wind will Spring from Life’s abyss
I have not known ~ a strange and mystic wind,
More keen, and purer than before ~ caress
My brow, and wanton softly with my hair,
And murmur low a secret that I thrill
And then a light will quietly dawn
From some far distant, unnamed bourne, and grow
Most strangely luminous, most strangely clear,
And I shall spread my arm in rapture,
Towards the light, and slowly I shall know, ~
Shall know, for sure, ~ Thy call hath come,
And bid dear Earth adieu, and go.