The Vale of Soul-Making by Daniel Leach

Down from some dim, distant star it glimmers,   
   Through the leafy shadows of this vale,
But unnoticed in their eyes it shimmers
   As they make love in the moonlight pale;       
       Never heeding, not yet knowing,
       A new soul already growing,   
That will soon its first bright, sunny morning hail.

What will be its little journey’s meaning?   
   What part of fond blessing or dark curse?
Will the soul of our small world be leaning
   On a path for better or for worse?
        And when it becomes a lover,
        Will it in another’s eyes discover
All the hidden beauty in the universe?

In the child’s imagination playing,
   There are secret dreams more true and real
Than the words we hear our mind’s voice saying,
   That we often don’t believe or feel;
       But when in our deepest yearning,
       For that happy state returning,
All the world seems glowing as if pure, ideal.

When in darkest moments, the soul faring,
   Lost as if in endless, tangled wood,
When of all hope in the world despairing,
   Of all beauty and all human good,
       On the moment’s shadows fretting,
       All and its own self forgetting,
   Even that simple truth it once understood.

Then suddenly into a small clearing,
    Stumbling, eyes fixed on the shadowed ground,
Overhead, unnoticed are appearing
    Stars and planets sparkling all around;
        Through the wild and feverish dreaming,
        They were there, forever beaming,
    Like light of that lost home the wanderer found.

Featured in Issue Two of New Lyre Magazine

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commmons User ForestWander