so here we are beneath the pallid ray
of summer noontime seeking to escape
for just one moment from the normal shape
of discreet instance so that we might play
a different sort of role where one could say
the angry words to those with mouth agape
that tell apart the angel from the ape
but those are for another cooler day
instead we look to work a better will
in places where the choice is not so bright
as underneath the growing midday roar
of silver needles passing by the hill
each flashing clearly in the brilliant light
so bidding us to join with them and soar
lacking all doubt choices unmade we scream
into the noon the sum of all our fears
not caring much about the weight of dream
on every several head until the beam
of milky light reveals the open tears
lacking all doubt choices unmade we scream
not only terrified but eyes agleam
with anger so this long hard tale of years
not caring much about the weight of dream
has caught each up in both the milk and cream
and blended in the message of our cares
lacking all doubt choices unmade we scream
all of our secrets in one clouded stream
while all around we feel the touch of stares
not caring much about the weight of dream
in middle day when the truth reigns supreme
denying mercy in the moveless airs
lacking all doubt choices unmade we scream
not caring much about the weight of dream
no need for echoes where the silence heaps
up in dark corners waiting for new night
to lower herself and let the breathy might
that we call summer with its sudden leaps
of devastating beauty stay our sleeps
from each astonishment that seems so right
just when it happens then we turn that slight
degree of justice into one that weeps
we are not wrong to ask just what the time
must measure out for each unwanted child
who comes upon the wall and does pause
to beg for mercy nor to ring the chime
of those who think the tenor is too mild
but will uphold the harshest of our laws
the voices that are loudest in the dark
need not be those on which we must depend
call on a hope that's ample and not stark
for which new voyage when we first embark
there's no clear meaning that we could intend
the voices which are loudest in the dark
are not the ones we first set out to mark
on whose loud booming our thoughts would
perpend
call on a hope that's ample and not stark
that is the task of scholar priest and clerk
here now to master each unworldly trend
the voices that are loudest in the dark
will not be those who cannot just remark
on ordinary passage they must bend
call on a hope that's ample and not stark
allow the motion to ignite a spark
of true humanity before the end
the voices that are loudest in the dark
call on a hope that's ample and not stark
impossible to miss that shining blue
the eye drawn outward to the furthest bound
where sense and vision come together drowned
in the immensity of that deep hue
where worlds and hopes are both slightly askew
some better wisdom is what we have found
where other souls in torment run aground
justice may grant an option to renew
no mind's enough to catch at all we need
for this long voyage through the middle air
though patience grants a chance to set all
right
when each has found some soil to plant a seed
and seen it nurtured given proper care
allowed to shoot its blossom into light
