I often passed the village
When going home from school —
And wondered what they did there —
And why it was so still —
I did not know the year then —
In which my call would come —
Earlier, by the Dial,
Than the rest have gone.
It’s stiller than the sundown.
It’s cooler than the dawn —
The Daisies dare to come here —
And birds can flutter down —
So when you are tired —
Or perplexed — or cold —
Trust the loving promise
Underneath the mould,
Cry “it’s I,” “take Dollie,”
And I will enfold!
I love this poem. It reminds me of when I was in my home country, Romania. I lived in a village and I used to walk home form school every day. I sometimes miss my village in Romania.
I am interpreting the death of a child.