Spencer Heath Archive

Item 1137

Penciling in a notebook regarding the spirit of society, why she is not understood, not accepted — only partially evolved on the earth, waiting.

1939?

Original -> 1130

 

    

 

 

     A spirit wanders brooding

Spirit of gracious things

Finds frail habitation —

Babe — child — Moves in

The eyes a wider look

The brow serener

The form instinct with grace

An eerie airy other-ness

Marked off from all the rest

Wonders why she seems apart

Looked at lovingly and then askance

She grows, she becomes

A pale, white violet

A lily white with aura bright

Petals, chilled, enclose

A heart of gold

Goes forth to shine in the sun

Meets many chills and shades

Petals tighter close

She strives to rise

O’er towering rocks and city piles

To pour out her sweetness

On a wider world that, too,

Does not perceive or understand

But senseless stands or turns away ¹¹³⁷