Merlin

On the frail wings of whisper flow
In shadows cast where the fairies bring—
The merry laughter of the little folk
Who brood above the glimmering wing,
In shadows that conceal beauty’s grace
While weaving rhymes of unsought song.

The rain’s soft touch that wakes the dreams,
Caressed along the dusty lane,
An old wisdom ignites the spark
Of life’s sweet purpose—like magic flame
While the heart is by the throng of life,
The tethered souls, evoking light.

Here, my ancient thoughts arise,
A gentle beckon to the playful muse:
The shift and sway of this tender hour
Crafts the clarity anew,
With stars afire and wild delight
Revived in one broad fold of night.

• Ralph Waldo Emerson