Clifford Franklin Gessler

From “The Villager”

O THOU elemental

Rain, sun, and body of the quick warm earth:

Hear these words from the cells of thy blood,

Multitudinous, various!

Let the waters at the dim roots of the grass be sweet,

And the milk be abundant in the breasts of time—

Yet a little while, till the pearl-gray banners of smoke

Be dissolved, and the flowing of rivulets be but a distant murmur

In the shout and the far white splendor of thy coming.

Let thy kindness be as a wide white blanket covering all

The brave inglorious futile race of men

Who lift tired eyes ever to sad stars

More desolate

Than the wind-harrowed wastes of ocean,

Whence comes no answer.

And after our futile striving, give us

Peace.