Aristocles

From the tree-fern that fell in the forest primeval,

No creature yet by that could hear,

Was there roaring or nothing? Just answer. Don't quibble!

Be once for all settled and clear.

        From the well of your soul, comes a song that's a prayer

        That unlocks the Door to the Unknown.

        In the hour that it comes, will you cry out to share?

        Or be still in the wonder alone? 

Is it both? Is it neither? I lie here. You lie there.

Awake, in the heart of the night.

When you’re thinking of how you are thinking, remember

That tree, half in shade, half in light.