Is love, then, so simple, my dear?
The opening of a door,
And seeing all things clear?
I did not know before.
The opening of a door,
And seeing all things clear?
I did not know before.
I had thought it unrest and desire
Soaring only to fall,
Annihilation and fire:
It is not so at all.
Soaring only to fall,
Annihilation and fire:
It is not so at all.
I feel no desperate will,
But I think I understand
Many things, as I sit quite still,
With Eternity in my hand.
But I think I understand
Many things, as I sit quite still,
With Eternity in my hand.
A poem by Irene Rutherford McLeod
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