Song of the City

Left the mountains behind;
Into the heat of engines I go,
Into the quick and the paved,
The bright, the noonday.


Left the river behind;
And all my meditations ail me.
I do not invite them,
But still they grieve me,

And oppose the heart and its lifting up,
Straining for the light
Behind the heavens.


And the city it jeers and drives me away;
Away, away! Chorus of horns are blazing behind me, unforgiving,
I do not know which way is out.

I do not belong here.

But when this is through, can I still find you?
When this is through, will I still have you and your peaceful places?

Though I strive and accuse, I only want you.
And for all my groaning,
I just want you close.