Harriet Monroe. Supernal Dialogue. Harriet Monroe, ed. Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912-22

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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22.

Supernal Dialogue

By Harriet Monroe


	Two beings
	Stood on the edge of things—
	Their breath was space,
	And their eyes were suns.

I	IT was this way he passed—	5
	I know the sound.

II	More worlds—
	He can not forbear—

I	Look down this lane—
	It was dark till he passed.	10
	Do you see—anything?

II	Seeds of light—glowing, whirling—
	A handful.

I	Separating now.

II	Fierce fire-balls—	15
	So many—so many. Will he get what he wants—
	The perfect flower?

I	Flower of delight—to bloom beside his throne?
	Sometime he will. [A pause]

I	Look—that little one—	20
	Burning, aching—
	Trailing its tiny orbs—

II	Which one?

I	See—scarlet—oh, alive!
	Deep in that right-hand cluster near the dark.	25

II	With tiny trailers—will it be one of them?
	That clouded one, maybe?

I	Look—it foams down.
	The clouds lift—
	There are seas—	30

II	Lands—a creeping green—
	Sounds of air moving.

I	Hush—oh, whisper!—do you see
	Dark specks that crawl?
	And wings that flash in the air?	35

II	Spawn—immeasurably minute.
	What does he mean, the fecund one, creating without reason or mercy?

I	He must—life is his song.
	He dreams—he wills.

II	Watch now—they change, those atoms.	40
	They stand on end—they lay stone on stone—
	They go clad—they utter words.

I	Proud—they take their spoil.
	Kings—and slaves.

II	Oh queer—ingenious! They gather in towns,	45
	They filch our fires to carry them over land and sea.

I	They measure the stars—they love—they dream.

II	But war—pain—obliterative war and pain.

I	So brief—each one a tiny puff—and out.

II	Grotesque!	50

I	A few look up—salute us before they fall.
	A few dare face him.

II	Is it enough? [A pause]

I	It cools down—their whirling world.
	It is silent—cold.	55

II	Has he lost again? Can he fail?

I	Who are we to question? Though he fail again and again—

II	Yes, who are we?

I	He must go on—he must get the flower.

	Two beings	60
	Stood on the edge of things—
	Their breath was space,
	And their eyes were suns.

CONTENTS · BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

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