Unmerciful, the morning breaks on heads
Unkempt with dreams and eyes as bleared as sheets
Upon which coverlids flick dumbly back
In disarray of textile and of mind.
Unmerciful, the morning showers dawn
And song and beauty down upon men's backs
And work-bound feet before their eyes can lift
Or hearts can pause to sing with its refrain.
Unmerciful, the morning brings the day
And call to draw the world along with hands
And spurs and laws and rakes and winning words:
The trappings of vocation, and of hope.
So thank you for the sacrament of strength:
A silent breakfast in the rosy light
That rises as your word in mouth and heart
And man stares uncompanioned at his thoughts.
A homely eucharist, this cud that feeds
Our limbs and every small obedience
Written in the book of allotted days
Till joy comes, and the shadows flee away.
This is good. My favorite line: "And man stares uncompanioned at his thoughts."
ReplyDeleteMine too. :) Thanks, Christian.
ReplyDelete