Noon in the Temple

Ruth Tenney

Noons drop gently here, and steal on the winds away.
Noons fall silently as flower-petals fall;
From the quiet dream-lit hills they fall
Into the court-petals of oleander falling:
Noons of today, noons of yesterday,
Fragrant noons of centuries ago—
A hush in the wind, the soft tones of a gong
Touched lightly like an ancient song
Begun and never ended. It is so
They come and rest awhile, and then are gone
Upon the wind.