I Am a Slow Thing

Shall I ever know just what to say to you?

I must say it soon-we are but dust in air.

The sun is up-we are but morning dew,

And sun and wind are strong, they do not care.

I must have time to think-I am a slow thing.

My loveliest thoughts are slower than a tree,

A long time from the seed to blossoming,

And I would bend with blossoms, I would be

As heavy as a bough, and shower petals

Of words about your head until you know

A love like flowers falling. See-dust settles,

The sun is rising; dew is going. Slow

The mind is to betray the quick heart's state-

O mind, be swift, before it is too late!