SECRETS

The Woods are dressed;
They wear their green and leafy airs
With mystery,
Yet all the secrets they contain
They offer to reveal to me
If I'll but walk among the moss,
The sorrel and the blue vervain,
And search the leaves and limbs and roots
For tendered truths,
But all in vain.

I sense the Whispered Wildness hush
To watch the solvings I may do,
Then sigh for poverties of mind
That make me blind
To every clue.