The Silent Pool

I have discovered finally to-day

This home that I have called my own

Is built of straw and clay,

Not, as I thought, of stone.

I wonder who the architect could be,

What builder made it of that stuff;

When it was left to me

The house seemed good enough.

Yet, slowly, as its roof began to sink,

And as its walls began to split,

And I began to think,

Then I suspected it;

But did not clearly know until today

That it was only built of straw and clay.

Now I will go about on my affairs

As though I had no cares,

Nor ever think at all

How one day soon that house is bound to fall,

So when I'm told the wind has blown it down

I may have something else to call my own.

I have enquired who was the architect,

What builder did erect.

I'm told they did design

Million and million others all like mine,

And argument with all men ends the same:--

It is impossible to fix the blame.

I am so glad that underneath our talk

Our minds together walk.

We argue all the while,

But down below our argument we smile,

We have our houses, but we understand

That our real property is common land.

At night we often go

With happy comrades to that real estate,

Where dreams in beauty grow,

And every man enjoys a common fate.

At night in sleep one flows

Below the surface of all argument;

The brain, with all it knows,

Is covered by the waters of content.

But when the dawn appears

Brain rises to the surface with a start,

And, waking, quickly sneers

At the old natural brightness of the heart.

Oh, that a man might choose

To live unconsciously like beast or bird,

And our clear thought not lose

Its beauty when we turn it into word.

Those quarrelings between my brain and heart

(In which I'd take no part)

Pursue their violent course

Corrupting my most vital force

So that my natural property is spent

In fees to keep alive their argument.

Look downward in the silent pool:

The weeds cling to the ground they love;

They live so quietly, are so cool;

They do not need to think, or move.

Look down in the unconscious mind:

There everything is quiet too

And deep and cool, and you will find

Calm growth and nothing hard to do,

And nothing that need trouble you.