To Hear the Falling Worldby Jane Hirshfield
Original Language English
Only if I move my arm a certain way,
it comes back.
Or the way the light bends in the trees
this time of year,
so a scrap of sorrow, like a bird, lights on the heart.
I carry this in my body, seed
in an unswept corner, husk-encowled and seeming safe.
But they guard me, these small pains,
from growing sure
of myself and perhaps forgetting.
|-- from Of Gravity & Angels, by Jane Hirshfield|
|Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women||Given Sugar, Given Salt: Poems||The Lives of the Heart: Poems||The October Palace: Poems||Of Gravity & Angels|
|More Books >>|