The Sanctuary

Invisible boundaries of a dream’s unrest
Establish the sanctuary of the mind
Where hunters blunder but may never find
Upon the stream the nine white swans abreast.
Intruders there, reluctant to attest
That they have sensed the flash of light behind
The intricate patterns which the leaves designed,
Have glimpsed the wings but never found the nest.
The ones who find the least will doubt the more
That in the sanctuary still survive
Elusive, lovely things to safety flown
From sure extinction threatening them before—
But others, hearing far notes, will arrive . . .
And find a sanctuary of their own.