On a Grey Thread/Ecstasy
Ecstasy
Stars, turn from your courses,Stars, stars, I want you,Spill into my hands.I have found a new loneliness,A new strong loneliness,That no one understands.
I know a new joy, stars,A joy of the still peak,The wonder of airs knife-sharp;Stars, I have learned to know them,I have learned the tongue they speak.Stars, I can understand them,All the words they say,All the subtle things.They teach me exaltation,A new intoxicationFine drawn as the music of harp-strings.Alone . . . alone . . . alone . . .Stars, I can hear my skin breathe,Hear my blood beat.How can flesh be so light,Feet walk and touch nothing,Thought become so fleet?
Time is a rhymeless poemWithout any endWritten in space,Here at the world's summitWhere life-giving windsSharply whip one's face.Life is the one reality,Life intensely realized,Life wildly felt;Death is an ungrasped dream,A vague monstrous fable,A puzzle still unspelt.
Alone . . . alone . . . alone . . .No other thing that breathesIn this keen place.O my new joy,Joy of singing summits,Of endless, vibrant space!Stars, stars, stoop down,Stars, turn from your courses,Spill into my hands!Stars, you are my kindred:I am strong with a new lonelinessThat no one understands.