O Lost

By: Thomas Wolfe

Photo: Erik Rittenberry

A stone, a leaf, an unfound door; 
a stone, a leaf, a door. And of 
all the forgotten faces.

Naked and alone we came into exile. 
In her dark womb we did not know 
our mother's face; from the prison 
of her flesh have we come into
 the unspeakable and 
incommunicable prison 
of this earth.

Which of us has known his brother? 
Which of us has looked into his 
father's heart? 

Which of us has not remained forever 
prison-pent? Which of us is not 
forever a stranger and alone?

O waste of lost, in the hot mazes, 
lost, among bright stars on this weary, 
unbright cinder, lost! 

Remembering speechlessly we seek 
the great forgotten language, 
the lost lane-end into heaven, 
a stone, a leaf, an unfound 
door. 

Where? When?

O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, 
come back again.”

You can find this beautiful passage in Thomas Wolfe's remarkable novel --  Look Homeward, Angel