You have to imaginea waiting that is not impatientbecause it is timeless.

Children's SongWe live in our own world,A world that is too smallFor you to stoop and enterEven on hands and knees,The adult subterfuge.And though you probe and pryWith analytic eye,And eavesdrop all our talkWith an amused look,You cannot find the centreWhere we dance, where we play,Where life is still asleepUnder the closed flower,Under the smooth shellOf eggs in the cupped nestThat mock the faded blueOf your remoter heaven.

No Through RoadAll in vain, I will cease nowMy long absorption with the plough,With the tame and the wild creaturesAnd man united with the earth.I have failed after many seasonsTo bring truth to birth,And nature's simple equationsIn the mind's precincts do not apply.But where to turn? Earth enduresAfter the passing, necessary shameOf winter, and the old lieOf green places beckons me stillFrom the new world, ugly and evil,That men pry for in truth's name.

Seated at table - no need for the fracture of the room's silence; noiselessly they conversed.