The Song Of Wandering Aengus

"I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And I cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were hanging on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she had gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon
The golden apples of the sun."

William Butler Yeats

The clouds have begun to dissipate but I fear to take faith, as I may be found disillusioned. So till I may find secure footings that I may rest upon I will continue to test each new step.