Here you will find thePoemMultitudes Turn In Darknessof poet Conrad Potter Aiken
The half-shut doors through which we heard that music Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence, The stars wheel out, the night grows deep. Darkness settles upon us; a Vague refrain Drowsily teases at the drowsy brain. In numberless rooms we stretch ourselves and sleep. Where have we been ? What savage chaos of music Whirls in our dreams? We suddenly rise in darkness, Open our eyes, cry out, and sleep once more. We dream we are numberless sea-waves, languidly foaming A warm white moonlit shore; Or clouds blown windily over a sky at midnight, Or chords of music scattered in hurrying darkness, Or a singing sound of rain We open our eyes and stare at the coiling darkness, And enter our dreams again.
