Monday, February 2, 2009

Refuge by Sara Teasdale

From my spirit's gray defeat,
From my pulse's flagging beat,
From my hopes that turned to sand
Sifting through my close-clenched hand,
From my own fault's slavery,
If I can sing, I still am free.

For with my singing I can make
A refuge for my spirit's sake,
A house of shining words, to be
My fragile immortality.

1 comment:

  1. I came across your site this morning. I love what you've done! I wanted to find "Rock Me To Sleep" and there it was on your blog with a sound file too! Your reading was excellent.