Softly Searching

This Wednesday Emily writes about softly searching for something.

 

#959

A loss of something ever felt I –

The first that I could recollect

Bereft I was – of what I knew not

Too young that any should suspect

 

A Mourner walked among the children

I notwithstanding went about

As one becoming a Dominion

Itself the only Prince cast out –

 

Elder Today, a session wiser

And fainter, too, as Wiseness is –

I find myself still softly searching

For my Delinquent Palaces –

 

And a Suspicion, like a Finger

Touches my Forehead now and then

That I am looking oppositely

For the site of the Kingdom of Heaven –

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