Bright beyond belief the morning sun Presents a double blazing image Above the sink, bewitching just enough of dawn For me to throw both windows back in homage. I went forgetful about my round of chores, Touching openness neither less nor more Than I was bid by my round of chores. Sunset had sun exit as it had come, In doubled glory. A thrush burst out at once Loudly loud, as if woods and house were one And eaves leaves.-- And thank, yes, forever thank Such song for how it came and its coming in To wake indoor woods beside my sink. Thank thrush for landing home in homing in.
I sing of him whose heart had hung Above all struggle or wonder Of our broken woes. Far oh far Beyond our little lays he'd sung. Yet here's no death, no reason, and No loss. No loss? No loss but less Of friendship than I'd lief confess, A faded castle, fallen sand Built up upon imperfect hope Toward another sky. Lost, the dream; Lost the meaning once deemed more firm, The promise more than swami's rope. We'd had heaven's ascent held fast: What we'd reared in reckless dawn As though God's own brave secret shown, Looms a gibbet now dawn is past And sunless exile welcomes me.