HEAVEN is in my hand, and I Touch a heart-beat of the sky, Hearing a blackbird's cry. Strange, beautiful, unquiet thing, Lone flute of God, how can you sing Winter to spring? You have outdistanced every voice and word, And given my spirit wings until it stirred Like you—a bird! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SYNCOPATED CAKEWALK by CLARENCE MAJOR CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON JONES'S PRIVATE ARGYMENT by SIDNEY LANIER |