What could be more wonderful Than the place where I walk sometimes? Swaying like trees in rain . . . Swaying like trees in sunshine When breezes stir nothing but happiness . . . What could be more lovely? I walk in the Field of Wonder Where colors come to be; I stare at the sky . . . I feel myself lifting on the wind As the swallows lift and blow upward . . . I see colors fade out, they die away . . . I blow across a cloud . . . I am lifted . . . How can I change again into a little girl When wings are in my feeling of gladness? This is strange to know On a summer day at noon, This is a wild new joy When summer is over. The scarlet of three maple trees Will guide me home, Oh mother my dear! Fear nothing: I will come home Before snow falls! MOON DOVES The moon has a dove-cote safe and small, Hid in the velvet sky: The doves are her companions sweet; She has no others. Moon doves on the wing are white As a valley of stars, When they fly, there is shining Like a golden river. I see so many whirling away and away, How can they get home again? The moon is calm and never wears an anxious look, She goes on smiling. I hear so many doves along the sky How will her dove-cote hold them? The moon says not one word to me; She lets me wonder. I WENT TO SEA I WENT to sea in a glass-bottomed boat And found that the loveliest shells of all Are hidden below in valleys of sand. I saw coral and sponge and weed And bubbles like jewels dangling. I saw a creature with eyes of mist Go by slowly. Star-fish fingers held the water . . . Let it go again . . . I saw little fish, the children of the sea; They were gay and busy. I wanted the sea-weed purple; I wanted the shells; I wanted a little fish to hold in my hands; I wanted the big fish to stop wandering about, And tell me all they knew . . . I have come back safe and dry And know no more secrets Than yesterday! THREE THOUGHTS OF MY HEART As I was straying by the forest brook I heard my heart speak to me: Listen; said my heart, I have three thoughts for you . . . a thought of clouds, A thought of birds, A thought of flowers. I sat upon a cushion of moss, Listening, Where the light played, and the green shadows: What would you do . . . I asked my heart . . . If you were a floating ship of the sky . . . If you were a peering bird . . . If you were a wild geranium? And my heart made answer: That is what I wonder and wonder! After all it is life I love, After all I am a living thing, After all I am the heart of you . . . I am content! SNOW-CAPPED MOUNTAIN