Only when the bells beneath the earth toll, shall my hidden kingdoms stand confessed, and the great wings, so long beaten against the cage of caution, gather themselves at last into rest. 

 

Then comes Spring, that green apostle. Passes her warm hand over the scarred orchards and says to the roots what no magistrate could.

​

What was clenched all winter in the bark now loosens. What seemed dead was only listening.

​

Here Thomas comes, the Twin, with divided face.

One eye for nail, one eye for risen flame; He walks through every soul’s contested place, He walks through the corridors with two faces joined at one brow. One turned toward the light newly risen. 

 

In him dwell as brothers who quarrel but share one blood. For who has not felt within one breast two voices disputing? One that presses the branch to see whether it is living wood or painted wax.

​

If Spring should knock, I shall not bolt it with last season’s key. I shall open, though not unwisely. the guarded girl with keys at every belt.

 

Under these meek ribs, a creature vast. Turn in his sleep, as mountains move in dream.

​

If I ask aught, it is no mighty thing, seeing the bird that trembleth in the hand, close not thy fingers. Bruise not that frail wing.

Learn that all nearness need not seize. Stand at the threshold till the bells within persuade thy ear.

​

Many of hands know touching but by cage. They make the skull a chalice,​With blindfold feet and garlands in the hair.

​

Only then shall I trust, not as the foolish trust, as earth were but the husk around a seam.

​

If one then come with reverent steps and slow, bearing no net, but bread and listening eyes, 

he shall find a field.

​

Not struck by fear, but moved by winds unseen.

 

Through radiance shed and won, that the hidden life does not grow by hoarding itself but by being poured.I thought the sealed vessel safest because it was sealed. 

​

Yet now I saw from some altitude not measured by feet that there descends continually a greenness into the world. The tree does not clutch its sap but sends it upward. 

​

The pear on the table was carrying sunlight inward to sweetness.

​

And the laughter moved through me like bells loosed from towers and sent rolling over hills!

 

The dark roots laugh beneath the household spring.