Impossible question

 Was it all for this
       that the fairest river
blent its murmurs
       to my cradle songs
that alder and oak
       and sycamore shades
sent forth a voice
       that flowed ceaselessly
along my dreams
       made music
and composed my thoughts
       giving me thus
amid the fret
       of human dwellings
a frank foretaste
       of calm
and of the love
       that was to come ?

John Lyons