Love Poems and Others/Renascence

​RENASCENCE

We have bit no forbidden apple,  Eve and I,Yet the splashes of day and nightFalling round us no longer dappleThe same Eden with purple and white.
This is our own still valley  Our Eden, our home,But day shows it vivid with feelingAnd the pallor of night does not tallyWith dark sleep that once covered its ceiling.
My little red heifer, to-night I looked in her eyes,  —She will calve to-morrow:Last night when I went with the lantern, the sow was grabbing her litterWith red, snarling jaws: and I heard the criesOf the new-born, and after that, the old owl, then the bats that flitter.
And I woke to the sound of the wood-pigeons, and lay and listened,  Till I could borrowA few quick beats of a wood-pigeon’s heart, and when I did riseThe morning sun on the shaken iris glistened,And I saw that home, this valley, was wider than Paradise.
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I learned it all from my Eve  This warm, dumb wisdom.She’s a finer instructress than years;She has taught my heart-strings to weaveThrough the web of all laughter and tears.
And now I see the valley  Fleshed all like meWith feelings that change and quiver:And all things seem to tally  With something in me,Something of which she’s the giver.
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