WHEN LILACS LAST IN THE DOOR-YARD BLOOM'D
When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom'd,
And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the night,
I mourn'd - and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring;
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west,
And thought of him I love.
That's only the first verse of this famous poem by Walt Whitman. The scholars know it is an elegy for President Lincoln, but I know it is very beautiful. Read it all if you wish.
There is the dependable rhythm of earth. Rhythm makes fine poetry, not life and death - no, only emptiness and fullness, and both the same.