QUIET WATERS

Our lives float on quiet waters . . .
Down softly flowing streams,
Where silvery willows
Shadow calm waves.
Gentle bird-songs
And murmuring freshets
Leap from the woodland
In snowy circlets.
Green embowers us,
and fragrant mosses,
Spicy odors
That drift in the languid
Swaying breezes . . .

Our lives float on quiet waters . . .
And my Love and I
Wonder at twilight,
When flaming banners
Spread in the heavens,
How long this Beauty -
This stately silence . . .
e'er once again we shall drift
On the turbulent, open sea.

- Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff