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Simultaneously, as soundlesly
Spontaneously, suddenly,
As, at the vaunt of the dawn, the kind
Gates of the body fly open
To its world beyond, the gates of the mind,
Swing to, swing shut, instantaneously
Quell the nocturnal rummage
Of its rebellious fronde, ill-favored,
Ill-natured and second rate,
Disfranchised, widowed and orphaned
By an historical mistake
Recalled from the shades to be a seeing being,
From absence to be on display,
Without a name or history I wake
Between my body and the day.
- Holy this moment, wholly in the right,
- As, in complete obedience
- To the light's laconic outcry, next
- As a sheet, near as a wall,
- Out there as a mountain's poise of stone,
- The world is present, about,
- And I know that I am, here, not alone
- But with a world and rejoice
- Unvexed, for the will has still to claim
- This adjacent arm as my own,
- The memory to name me, resume
- Its routine of praise and blame
- And smiling to me is this instant while
- Still the day is intact, and
- The Adam sinless in our beginning,
- Adam still previous to any act.
- I draw breath; this is of course to wish
- No matter what, to be wise,
- To be different, to die and the cost,
- No matter how, is Paradise
- Lost of course and myself owing a death;
- The eager ridge, the steady sea,
- The flat roofs of the fishing village
- Still asleep in its bunny,
- Though as fresh and sunny still are not friends
- But things to hand, this ready flesh
- No honest equal, but my accomplice now
- My assassin to be, and my name
- Stands for my historical share of care
- For a lying self-made city,
- Afraid of our living task, the dying
- Which the coming day will ask.
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