October 17

I understand the woods in winter now

As once I thought I knew the clear sunlight.

I know how still the cold can make the ground.

I’ve felt how dark the silence makes the night.

I understand the murmur of the sea.

I hear the eternal sadness in her voice

That sinks to silence, then cries out to me

A never-ending dirge of love and loss.

I know the secret of the wailing wind

Who lashes tears of rain against the eaves,

And sobs her bitter, echoing refrain

Or whispers, soft and lonely, through the leaves.

But I would give all that I have and more

To know nothing, the way I did before.