Where art Thou, O Spirit Kindred, For Whom I long wistfully? Are you there In sweetness soft And silent, Living in a future Yet unborn, That someday I Shall discover Thee? Will you bloom At the touch Of my gentle love, Unfolding As does the rose When by the sun 'Tis warmly kissed? Will you bring To my arid soul A spring Of joy and content, A twinning Now unfelt But desired so deeply? Can longings Create bone and blood? Are light and life Products of endless Fantasy? Only Time's changing Perceptions Will tell the tale; Only the parade of days Will show Whether I face The east or west.
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