<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358589" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Miracles</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Twilight is spacious, near things in it seem far, <br>And distant things seem near. <br>Now in the green west hangs a yellow star. <br>And now across old waters you may hear <br>The profound gloom of bells among still trees, <br>Like a rolling of huge boulders beneath seas. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Silent as though in evening contemplation <br>Weaves the bat under the gathering stars. <br>Silent as dew, we seek new incarnation, <br>Meditate new avatars. <br>In a clear dusk like this <br>Mary climbed up the hill to seek her son, <br>To lower him down from the cross, and kiss <br>The mauve wounds, every one. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Men with wings <br>In the dusk walked softly after her. <br>She did not see them, but may have felt <br>The winnowed air around her stir; <br>She did not see them, but may have known <br>Why her son's body was light as a little stone. <br>She may have guessed that other hands were there <br>Moving the watchful air. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, unless persuaded by searching music <br>Which suddenly opens the portals of the mind, <br>We guess no angels, <br>And are contented to be blind. <br>Let us blow silver horns in the twilight, <br>And lift our hearts to the yellow star in the green, <br>To find perhaps, if, while the dew is rising, <br>Clear things may not be seen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Conrad+Potter+Aiken">Conrad Potter Aiken</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358589" data-title="Miracles de Conrad Potter Aiken" data-description="Twilight is spacious, near things in it seem far, And distant things seem near. Now in the green west hangs a yellow star. And now across old waters you may hear The profound gloom of bells among still trees, Like a rolling of huge boulders b..."></div> </div> </div>

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