Moods
I AM the still rain falling, Too tired for singing mirth-- Oh, be the green fields calling, Oh, be for me the earth! I am the brown bird pining To leave the nest and fly-- Oh, be the fresh cloud shining, Oh, be for me the sky!
Sara Teasdale
I AM the still rain falling, Too tired for singing mirth-- Oh, be the green fields calling, Oh, be for me the earth! I am the brown bird pining To leave the nest and fly-- Oh, be the fresh cloud shining, Oh, be for me the sky!
Sara Teasdale’s “Moods” gives voice to two quiet but intense states of longing. In the first stanza, the speaker feels like rain so tired it has stopped caring whether it makes music; all she wants is to be received, grounded, held.
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