DuBose Heyward

From “Charleston Poems”

I SAW you pray today

Out in the park—

Poor little storm-driven

Child of the dark.

Body to earth you lay

On the young grass,

Learning the shining way

April may pass.

I saw the clear song

Cardinals make

Brush your face tangibly,

Like wind on the lake.

Then, in the hedge

Where japonicas grew,

A little breeze was born,

Boyish and new.

I saw it find you

And rustle your name;

Lift you, and carry you

Like a slim flame

Out where the trees break,

Leaving wide skies.

Now I see always

The prayer in your eyes.