Whenever the heart’s in trouble
Caught in the snare of years,
And the sum of tears is double
The amount of youthful tears,
In the far, dark woods go roving
And find there to match your mood
A kindred spirit moving
Where the wild winds blow in the wood.
Unto a speechless kingdom I
Have pledged my tongue, I have given my word
To make the centuries-silent sky
As vocal as a bird.
The stone that aeons-long was held
As mute through me has cried aloud
Against its being bound, has spelled
Its boredom to a crowd
Of trees that leaned down low to hear
One with complaint so like their own
--I being to the trees and ear
And tongue to the mute stone.
And I being pledged to fashion speech
For all the speechless joy to find
The wonderful words that each to each
They utter in my mind.