by Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Anne Morrow Lindbergh

But how can I live without you?- she cried.

I left all the world to you when I died:
Beauty of earth and air and sea;
Leap of a swallow or a tree;
Kiss of rain and wind's embrace;
Passion of storm and winter's face;
Touch of feather, flower, and stone;
Chiselled line of branch or bone;
Flight of stars, night's caravan;
Song of crickets - and of man-
All these I put in my testament,
All these I bequeathed you when I went.

But how can I see them without your eyes
Or touch them without your hand?
How can I hear them without your ear,
Without your heart, understand?

These too, these too,
I leave to you!

Last updated May 14, 2019