Thursday, January 11, 2007
What If (poem)
What If
What if it is given to us
not to know, but to feel constantly
those currents of love and agony
which flow unceasingly
through us, through the world,
thrilling the trees
with their bent boughs,
caressing the waves torn by their own
incessant pummeling
against the shore,
even the birds
when they are not here.
What if it is given to us
not to know, but to feel constantly
those currents of love and agony
which flow unceasingly
through us, through the world,
thrilling the trees
with their bent boughs,
caressing the waves torn by their own
incessant pummeling
against the shore,
even the birds
when they are not here.
What if we can never unravel
the mystery of the eye
following its shimmering beam to
the lover's eye,
the lip seeking the lip.
the invalid crying
alone.
What if we can uncover nothing
beyond this terrible witnessing,
this anguished rapture?
Dorothy Walters
January 1, 2007
