The New England transcendentalists – Emerson and Thoreau –
Were closer to muskrats and woodland peaks – and so the human soul –
Than most are today. Yet, wildness lingers long,
And the forest primeval reveals the starry depths,
That, open-eyed, stare back, penetrating.
No warning from those depths, just soundless dread seeded
Many lives gone, a story beyond recall for those lost to the
Dawning gabble that were once first-thoughts, vaguely recognizable
Across the void of altered ancestry to immerse us still in awe.
I Am Arrived.