To the Cuckoo - Poem By Sri Aurobindo

Sounds of the wakening world, the year’s increase,

Passage of wind and all his dewy powers

With breath and laughter of new-bathed flowers

And that deep light of heaven above the trees

Awake mid leaves that muse in golden peace

Sweet noise of birds, but most in heavenly showers

The cuckoo’s voice pervades the lucid hours,

Is priest and summoner of these melodies.

The spent and weary streams refresh their youth

At that creative rain and barren groves

Regain their face of flowers; in thee the ruth

Of Nature wakening her dead children moves.

But chiefly to renew thou hast the art

Fresh childhood in the obscured human heart.

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