Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Summer mornings begin inch by inch

We haven't had a poem in this space lately, and today seems like a good day for that. At dusk today Venus will cross the sun, a celestial rarity. Perhaps that suggests a poem with something celestial in it? Our friend Karen in Tennessee sent this poem yesterday, and I like it a lot:

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Horses at Midnight Without a Moon
by Jack Gilbert from Collected Poems
Our heart wanders lost in the dark woods.
Our dream wrestles in the castle of doubt.
But there's music in us. Hope is pushed down
but the angel flies up again taking us with her.
The summer mornings begin inch by inch
while we sleep, and walk with us later
as long-legged beauty through
the dirty streets. It is no surprise
that danger and suffering surround us.
What astonishes is the singing.
We know the horses are there in the dark
meadow because we can smell them,
can hear them breathing.
Our spirit persists like a man struggling
through the frozen valley
who suddenly smells flowers
and realizes the snow is melting
out of sight on top of the mountain,
knows that spring has begun.

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