Let This Hill Rest

Let this hill rest . . .

Let the roots crawl into this failing earth,

Let the leaf fall, let day descend

On untilled slopes. Let the oak’s girth

Strain and increase, vine drown the rock

And paling blossoms flow in creeping wind.

Let my heart rest this purple hour

With slow wandering in dull passages of breath,

In unwoven air, in sleep withdrawn from death,

And voiceless span the mountain’s crumbling tower.

Let me lie here unstirred, unwaked and still,

Let my heart lean against this fallow hill.