I have seen villages grow suddenly
From dust and stand upright in the air
With comfortable homes grouped round a spire;
And in the fields strong women bending
Down to coarse toil to nourish unborn women.
But in the gardens, languid with flowers’ fragrance
Girls linger on close lawns for unknown happenings,
Tearing a petal in long shining fingers.
So waiting whilst pear blossom apple blossom
And white plum blossom are fallen down to earth,
And the white moon fallen. Then a heap of dust
That once was named, loved and familiar
Lies unsubstantial in the eternal sunlight.
Whence faint thoughts
Stirring far down in twilight consciousness
Move dark-boughed yew-trees over graves and stars.