In the Beck
There is a fish, that quivers in the pool, Itself a shadow, but its shadow, clear. Catch it again and again, it still is there. Against the flowing stream, its life keeps pace With
Heroes
This war’s dead heroes, who has seen them? They rise in smoke above the burning city, Faint clouds, dissolving into sky – And who sifting the Libyan sand can find The tracery of a
Seed
From star to star, from sun and spring and leaf, And almost audible flowers whose sound is silence, And in the common meadows, springs the seed of life. Now the lilies open, and the
Worry About Money
Wearing worry about money like a hair shirt I lie down in my bed and wrestle with my angel. My bank-manager could not sanction my continuance for another day But life itself wakes me
Far-Darting Apollo
I saw the sun step like a gentleman Dressed in black and proud as sin. I saw the sun walk across London Like a young M. P., risen to the occasion. His step was
Confessions
Wanting to know all I overlooked each particle Containing the whole Unknowable. Intent on one great love, perfect, Requited and for ever, I missed love’s everywhere Small presence, thousand-guised. And lifelong have been reading
Millenial Hymn to Lord Shiva
Earth no longer Hymns the Creator, The seven days of wonder, The Garden is over – All the stories are told, The seven seals broken All that begins Must have its ending, Our striving,
Paradise Seed
Where is the seed Of the tree felled, Of the forest burned, Or living root Under ash and cinders? From woven bud What last leaf strives Into life, last Shrivelled flower? Is fruit of