Buffalo Creek

A timid child with heart oppressed By images of sin, I slunk into the bush for rest, And found my fairy kin. The fire I carried kept me warm: The friendly air was chill. The laggards of the lowing storm Trailed gloom along the hill. I watched the crawling monsters melt And saw their shadows wane As on my satin skin I felt The fingers of the rain. The sunlight was a golden beer, I drank a magic draught; The sky was clear and, void of fear, I stood erect and laughed. And sudden laughter, idly free, About me trilled and rang, And love was shed from every tree, And little bushes sang. The bay of conscience’ bloody hound That tears the world apart Has never drowned the silent sound Within my happy heart.