City of the Heart

I have been through the gates of an old city, Girt round by walls of gray and mellow stone, Whose streets were filled with strong, clear golden light; The shade of towering trees; and many flowers, As richly fragrant and as brightly dyed As I had ever known; and there was music, Spilled by the wind among the murmuring leaves, And from the throats of birds whose gay wings brushed A sky of burnished blue with streaks of song.

I stood beside a lake of crystal waters That shimmed with the splendor of drowned sun, And listened to the bells sing Angelus From the high spires of a white cathedral: And there was wonder in me, for I had Never before beheld — nor even dreamed of! — Such a city, beautiful and serene, Built from wisdom and with tenderness, Within the tiny compass of your heart.