I saw you pray today
Out in the park—
Poor little storm-driven
Child of the dark.
Body to earth you lay
On the young grass,
Learning the shining way
April may pass.
I saw the clear song
Cardinals make
Brush your face tangibly,
Like wind on the lake.
Then, in the hedge
Where japonicas grew,
A little breeze was born,
Boyish and new.
I saw it find you
And rustle your name;
Lift you, and carry you
Like a slim flame
Out where the trees break,
Leaving wide skies.
Now I see always
The prayer in your eyes.
