Sparrows

My spirit cleansed in a long spell of sleep,
I feel enlarged by Being’s depth and sweep:
And out into the open freedom-borne,
I breathe the sweet, cool glories of the morn.
Wide fields and trees, far hills and the sky seem
An insubstantial and rich-painted dream.
Stray notes of birds suggest the brush at work,
Retouching and removing faults that lurk.
–And like a poem, long in vision known,
The sun glows with ease into roundness blown.

I walk about trusting to chance’s lead– 
(My life’s event aeons ago decreed!)
I come upon a tall lone bamboo-clump
Stuck with green swords aflame with dews; and plump
Sparrows like blossoms shake in a rage of song
And in gay dance millions of moments throng,
Once lived intact from Memory’s crevices:
Intuitions, discoveries, ecstasies–
And from the earth all evil melts away.
And life aye morning-fresh knows no decay
Deaths are strait passes into eternity,
Arid births flood-gates of influent energy.