Between Lives

Why should i not forget you
Here, under the sod?
There are roots and rain to listen to,
And the blind mole's plod,
For as long as I can listen,
Ere I be a clod.
(I haven't heard anything yet,
Or seen anything of God.)

Why must I still remember?
A leaf falls from a limb,
That I know, for to dead things
My sense does not dim.
I wish God's pity would tell me
As plain if love's but a whim.
(But I haven't heard anything yet,
Or seen anything of Him.)

I have but lain and waited,
Unwilling to forget;
Hoping to hear your heart beating
With a vain regret.
But the only breath that beats here
Is the rain's, sad and wet.
(And if there's any Hereafter
I have not learned, yet.)