Who had love right in world's history, Love dowsered from stale books, old mythologies? Who of all those mighty lovers once Crossed unwatered that great stream? 5 Or could tell when they woke, when they dreamed? A woman lay by me in my bed; Golden nights forgot days of lead, And all my intricate subtlety was turned Away, as if it had never burned 10 With reality's cold questioning. I call her image up that grew intense Because so much of loveliness was struck condensed Into those visionary, stone-still eyes That knew the world must die away, 15 That they themselves would never fade. Beauty like that of a prideful bird, Burnt-out memories blazed intense at a word, All look upon me at my life's one work To sit, grow still, and to never shirk 20 This monstrous sublimity I feel. I walk the long hallway questioning; Questioning, I turn from thing to thing An arrogant, restless mind That I am tied to, kind to kind, 25 A stone leashed to a stone.
From the collection "The Rose Lasso"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.