Verse and Reverse (1921)/The Inseperable Ones

When I look at water,
Sliding in grass-bound stream, chuckling over pebbles,
Hurtling in rapids through some narrow gorge,
Or grinding helter-skelter on a shaly beach—
When I look at water
Talking with moist tongues within cool, weedy caves,
Creeping in sombre black beneath tall cliffs,
Or leaping in silver and pearl embroideries adown the glistening rocks into the lake—
I always think of trees,
Of many trees, moving and singing all together:—
Birches, cedars, surging of elm branches,
Swishing of oak leaves, the low-voiced pines,
And the bewildering, lapping sounds of twinkling poplars.
When I look at water I always think of trees;
Yet, now that I have left them all behind—
The waterfalls, the lakes, the amber-tinted rivers—
Back in the asphalt street with its two lines of dusty maples.
I listen to the breeze dancing among their branches,
And, closing my eyes, think they are waters—calling.