There stands a tree. What pure over-climbing!
Oh Orpheus sings! A tall tree rings in my ear!
Then all falls still but even in the silencing
are new signs and portents that draw near.
Creatures press in quietly from their clearly
absolved dens, untussled bushes and nests
free from predation, at their curious best.
Not quiet from stifled fears, instead sincerely
Out of simply hearing. Urges for jeering
shrink in spellbound hearts, and where before
there was no proper shelter for throngings
Is now a cottage to fulfill deep dim longings
with open entrance, porch and trembling doors;
You raised to them a temple for the hearing.
