I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope<br />For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love<br />For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith<br />But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.<br />Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:<br />So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.<br />Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.<br />The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,<br />The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy<br />Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony <br />Of death and birth.