Moonlight

"The moon is but a candle-glow

That flickers thro' the gloom:

The starry space, a castle hall:

And Earth, the children's room,

Where all night long the old trees stand

To watch the streams asleep:

Grandmothers guarding trundle-beds:

Good shepherds guarding sheep. "

from Vachel Lindsay's The Light o' the Moon

Shine through

"It is not enough to appear good and honest: one must truly be so. And the good and honest person is one who does not obscure God’s light with his own ego, does not put himself forward, but allows God to shine through."

--Pope Benedict XVI, in his homily this morning for the feast of Saint Wenceslaus

The Flower of Mending

When Dragon-fly would fix his wings,
When Snail would patch his house,
When moths have marred the overcoat
Of tender Mister Mouse,

The pretty creatures go with haste
To the sunlit blue-grass hills
Where the Flower of Mending yields the wax
And webs to help their ills.

The hour the coats are waxed and webbed
They fall into a dream,
And when they wake the ragged robes
Are joined without a seam.

My heart is but a dragon-fly,
My heart is but a mouse,
My heart is but a haughty snail
In a little stony house.

Your hand was honey-comb to heal,
Your voice a web to bind.
You were a Mending Flower to me
To cure my heart and mind.

--Vachel Lindsay