Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 3 — The Path by the Creek

But most of all, yea, it were well for me, Me and my heart, that I forget that flower, The blue wild-iris, azure fleur-de-lis, That she and I together found that hour.

Its recollection can but emphasize The pain of loss, remindful of her eyes.

THE PATH BY THE CREEK

There is a path that leads Through purple ironweeds, By button-bush and mallow Along a creek;

A path that wildflowers hallow, That wild-birds seek;

Roofed thick with eglantine And grape and trumpet-vine.

This side, the blackberries sweet Glow cobalt in the heat;

That side, a creamy yellow, In summer-time The pawpaws slowly mellow: And autumn’s prime Strews red the Chickasaw, Persimmon brown and haw.

The glittering dragon-fly, A wingéd gem, goes by;

And tawny wasp and hornet Make drowsy drone;

The beetle, like a garnet, Basks on the stone;

And butterflies float there, Spangling with gold the air.

Here the brown thrashers hide, And chat and cat-bird chide;

The blue kingfisher houses Above the stream, And here the heron drowses, Lost in his dream;

The vireo’s flitting note Makes woodlands more remote.

And now a cow’s slow bell Tinkles from dale to dell;

Where breeze-dropped petals winnow From blossomy limbs On waters, where the minnow, Faint-twinkling, swims;

Where, in the root-arched shade, Slim prisms of light are laid.

When in the tangled thorn The new-moon hangs a horn, Or, ’mid the sunset’s islands, Guides her canoe, The brown owl in the silence Calls, and the dew Beads glimmering orbs of damp, Each one a glow-worm lamp.

Then when the night is still Here sings the whippoorwill;

And stealthy sounds of crickets, And winds that pass, Whispering, through bramble thickets Along the grass, Faint with warm scents of hay, Seem feet of dreams astray.

And where the water shines Dark through tree-twisted vines, Some water-spirit, dreaming, Braids in her hair A star’s reflection; seeming A jewel there;

While all the sweet night long Ripples her quiet song....

Would I could imitate, O path, thy happy state!

Making my life all beauty, All bloom and beam;

Knowing no other duty But just to dream, And far from pain and woe Lead feet that come and go.

Leading to calm content, O’er ways the Master went, Through lowly things and humble, To peace and love;

Teaching the lives that stumble To look above, Forget the world of toil And all its mad turmoil.