THE COMING OF LIGHT
Even this late it happens:
The coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.
-Mark Strand.
2 comments:
Thanks for introducing me to this poet Reya - a very accomplished man. I've enjoyed researching his work and life - someone I knew nothing about previous to your post and now admire very much.
I heard this poem years ago at the Zendo, and I've never been quite able to remember which one it was -- so thanks for reintroducing it to me! :)
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