Hannah, It's Finished! - Foma

How calmly does the branch

Observe the sky begin to blanch

Without a cry, without a prayer

With no betrayal of despair

Sometime while light obscures the tree

The zenith of its life will be

Gone past forever, and from thence

A second history will commence

A chronicle no longer gold

A bargaining with mist and mould

And finally the broken stem

The plummeting to earth;

and then

An intercourse not well designed

For beings of a golden kind

Whose native green must arch above

The Earth’s obscene, corrupting love

And still the ripe fruit and the branch Observe the sky begin to blanch

Without a cry, without a prayer

With no betrayal of despair

O courage, could you not, as well

Select a second place to dwell

Not only in that golden tree

But in the frightened heart of me?