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Collected Poems



Now, when the path crumbles, the rubble echoing in the blackness below,
and the hand trembles, fearful to stay or go;

now, in this night we shall afterwards remember
as a mountain rifted with snow lit by stars in the gulf of nothing;

now, in this great glory, with the arched branches and the stars between,
and time a burning bush and our spirits passing to heaven;

now, when my armed thoughts are withdrawn from the outposts of space
and the warrior sleeps in the shade by the fountain;

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now, in this luminous darkness, as we take the tide of the earth,
swing slowly with the creation—

now is the time of peace: let fear be past:
and out of peace let desire
rise like a whirlwind in our dust.

First vision of the world, O fire, and fairest light,
unlock my bones, O burn and bless me.