  I know this room, and there are corridors: the pictures, I have seen before; the statues and those gems in cases I have wandered by before,— stood there silent and lonely in a dream of years ago. I know the dark of night is all around me; my eyes are closed, and I am half asleep. My wife breathes gently at my side. But once again this old dream is within me, and I am on the threshold waiting, wondering, pleased, and fearful. Where do those doors lead, what rooms lie beyond them? I venture.... But my baby moves and tosses from side to side, and her need calls me to her. Now I stand awake, unseeing, in the dark, and I move towards her cot.... I shall not reach her ... There is no direction.... I shall walk on.... F. S. Flint
|
|
