Primary Wonder

by Denise Levertov

Days pass when I forget the mystery.
Problems insoluble and problems offering
their own ignored solutions
jostle for my attention, they crowd its antechamber
along with a host of diversions, my courtiers, wearing
their colored clothes, cap and bells.
And then
once more the quiet mystery
is present to me, the throng’s clamor
recedes: the mystery
that there is anything, anything at all,
let alone cosmos, joy, memory, everything,
rather than void: and that, O Lord,
Creator, Hallowed One, You still,
hour by hour sustain it.

from Sands of the Well (1996)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Riff on “The Impossible Dream”

White Owl Flies Into and Out of the Field

“Che Fece .... Il Gran Rifiuto”