Classic Poem

—“What was that sound we heard
fall on the snow?”
—“It was a frozen bird.
Why must you know?
All the dull earth knows the good
that the air, with claws and wings
tears to the scattered questionings
which burn in fires of our blood.”
—“Let the air's beak and claws
carry my deeds
far, where no springtime thaws
the frost for their seeds.”
—“One could fathom every sound
that the circling blood can tell
who heard the diurnal syllable,
while lying close against the ground.”
—“My flesh, bone and sinew
now would discern
hidden waters in you
Earth, waters that burn.”
—“One who turns to earth again
finds solace in its weight; and deep
hears the blood forever keep
the silence between drops of rain.”