Seeds

Seeds with wings, between earth and sky
Fluttering, flying;
Seeds of a lily with blood-red core
Breathing of myrrh and of giroflore:
Where winds drop them, there must they lie,
Living or dying.

Some to the garden, some to the wall,
Fluttering, falling,
Some to the river, some to earth:
Those that reach the right soil get birth t
None of the rest have lived at all.
Whose voice is calling? —

'Here is soil for wing'd seeds that near,
Fluttering, fearing,
Where they shall root and burgeon and spread.
Lacking the heart-room the Song lies dead:
Half is the Song that reaches the ear,
Half is the hearing.