The Coming of Wisdom with Time by William Butler Yeats

Though leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither into the truth.

Why would I choose such a short poem? Probably because something so small is often ultra-concentrated. Or maybe I just chose this poem because perhaps I’m feeling a bit melancholy. Is not the Truth the best thing for everyone? Is not it the most wonderful thing? Best I can tell, Yeats disagrees. To find out, one must pick the poem apart. With the poem being so short, one must take the poem one line at a time.

            “Though leaves are many, the root is one.” Straightforward. Any plant one is likely to find is made up of this. The leaves that in the summer convert the sun to usable energy, and the root, which stores the energy and collects nutrients from the ground.

            “Through all the lying days of my youth” The highlight is lying, which can mean either that he was telling un-truths in his youth, or that he (or the day, depending on who one interprets the subject is) is resting (beneath the shade of a tree perhaps?)

            “I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun” This brings an image of life, whether the swaying is celebration, dancing, or something else vibrant. Also, note the sun, which gives nourishment.

            “Now I may wither into the truth” Now the lying is revealed. No longer is he alive with a lie, but dead, dying, or at least retreating into himself, with the truth to stark for life to grow. The winter has entered his soul, and there is no sun.