Explore "Communicants" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Who knows the things they dream, alas! / Or feel, who lie beneath the ground? / Perhaps the flowers, the leaves, and grass / That close them round.
In spring the violets may spell / The moods of them we know not of; / Or lilies sweetly syllable / Their thoughts of love
Haply, in summer, dew and scent / Of all they feel may be a part; / Each red rose be the testament / Of some rich heart.
The winds of fall be utterance, / Perhaps, of saddest things they say; / Wild leaves may word some dead romance / In some dim way.
In winter all their sleep profound / Through frost may speak to grass and stream; / The snow may be the silent sound / Of all they dream.