|
As one who between dim receding walls Towards the far gleam of a tunnel's mouth, Hoping for light, walks now with freer pace And feels approach a breath of wider air, So he escaped from that grey anarchy. Into an ineffectual world he came, A purposeless region of arrested birth Where being from non-being fled and dared To live but had no strength long to abide. Above there gleamed a pondering brow of sky Tormented, crossed by wings of doubtful haze Adventuring with a voice of roaming winds And crying for a direction in the void Like blind souls looking for the selves they lost And wandering through unfamiliar worlds; Wings of vague questioning met the query of Space. After denial dawned a dubious hope, A hope of self and form and leave to live And the birth of that which never yet could be, And joy of the mind's hazard, the heart's choice, Grace of the unknown and hands of sudden surprise And a touch of sure delight in unsure things: To a strange uncertain tract his journey came Where consciousness played with unconscious self And birth was an attempt or episode. A charm drew near that could not keep its spell, An eager Power that could not find its way, A Chance that chose a strange arithmetic But could not bind with it the forms it made, A multitude that could not guard its sum Which less than zero grew and more than one. 
|
