What Then, a Rose!

Then the tall grass made way - though taller still;

and defined the big hole against the wall,

not a flower in sight, nor tree, nor leaf,

but the blue sky, sun and a sparrow's call.

 

The wind was enough to begin - just then;

and though far beyond clouds I heard you still,

each bird in the garden returned your call,

but you had yet to come over the hill.

 

A few more steps before the sky would bloom,

and a tinge of pink would brighten the green;

it was spring, and the earth was right - just right,

what then, a rose - the fairest I'd seen.