Inspiring Enchantment & Illumination with Tarot & Intuitive Guidance

Sunday Poetry

from Song of Myself
By Walt Whitman

I am he that walks with the tender and growing night,
I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.

Press close bare-bosom’d night — press close magnetic
nourishing night!

Night of south winds — night of the large few stars!

Still nodding night — mad naked summer night.

Smile O voluptuous cool-breath’d earth!
Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!

Earth of departed sunset — earth of the mountains misty-topt!

Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue!

Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river!

Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake!

Far-swooping elbow’d earth — rich apple-blossom’d earth!

Smile, for your lover comes.