Page:The Poet in the Desert.djvu/17

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Or the souls of the hungry hordes ruled by their

Oppressors. Neither the freedom of the primal struggle, Nor the freedom of the ultimate peace. Society, a hoofed monster, trampling to death the race. Truth, dweller in the starry places, More elusive than moonlight upon the sea, tremulous. Let me behold your brow which is vague as night, infinite. Let me look into your eyes which are deeper than the

skies of this Desert.

Where are you. Truth, where are you?

Shadowy, appearing, disappearing, ever retreating.

As the mirage of the Desert which lures to the glittering

Death-spaces ; always advancing, never overtaken.

Your smile is serene as death.

And your hand is comforting.

Where are you, Truth, where are you?

The Desert is empty, vague, vast and terrifying ;

Its stillness is as the spaces between the stars.

So that I hear the murmur of my own heart and am afraid.

I look up to the sky, which is eternal,

And down to the hot sand, which is eternal,

And I am afraid of my littleness.

I know the brevity of my existence.

Which is like the passing of the shadow of a cloud.

I salute the little mottled lizard which intently watches me;

I salute you. Brother ;

Yet I know I am greater than you ; greater than all else.

I am to myself greater than the Desert, or the world.

Or the curiously peering stars.

I feel that I am, in a mysterious way,

Part of Time ; part of Eternity.

When I have saluted Death and taken him by the hand,

I shall be absolved and know no more ;

Even as these white skulls and ribs know no more.

Nevertheless, I am now a part of Time and I shall then be

II