John Gneisenau Neihardt

Morning Glories

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Distant as a dream's flight,
Lay an eerie plain,
Where the weary moonlight
Swooned into a moan;
Wailing after dead seed
Came the ghost of rain.
There was I, a wild weed,
Growing all alone.

Like a doubted story,
Came the thought of day;
God and all His glory
Lingered otherwhere,
Busy with the spring thrill
Many dreams away.
Could a little weed's will
Fling so far a prayer?

Lo, the sudden wonder!
(Is a prayer so fleet?)
From the desert under,
Morning glories grew;
Twined me, bound me
With caressing feet;
Wove song'round me --
Pink, white blue!

As a fog is rifted
By the eager breeze,
Darkness broke and lifted,
Tossing like a sea!
Lo, the dawn was flowering
Through the maple trees!
Oh, and you were showering
Kisses over me!

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John Gneisenau Neihardt