THERE are sea and sky about me,
And yet nothing sense can mark;
For a mist fills all the midnight
Adding blindness to its dark.
There is not the faintest echo
From the life of yesterday:
Not the vaguest stir foretelling
Of a morrow on the way.
‘Tis negation’s hour of triumph
In the absence of the sun;
‘Tis the hour of endings, ended,
Of beginnings, unbegun.
Yet the voice of awful silence
Bids my waiting spirit hark;
There is action in the stillness,
There is progress in the dark.
In the drift of things and forces
Comes the better from the worse;
Swings the whole of Nature upward,
Wakes, and thinks–a universe.
There will be more life to-morrow,
And of life, more life that knows;
Though the sum of force be constant
Yet the Living ever grows.
So we sing of evolution,
And step strongly on our ways;
And we live through nights in patience
And we learn the worth of days.
In the silence of murk midnight
Is revealed to me this thing:
Nothing hinders, all enables
Nature’s vast awakening.
(Louisa Sarah Bevington)
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Based on Topics: Life Poems, Nature Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Silence Poems, Patience Poems, Evolution PoemsBased on Keywords: endings, negation, enables, vaguest, unbegun