2005-09-16 - 1:44 p.m.
Hart Crane
MEDITATION
Toward peace and the grey margins of the day.
I have drawn my hands away
The andante of vain hopes and lost regret
Falls like slow rain that whispers to forget,-
Like a song that neither questions nor replies
It laves with coolness tarnished lips and eyes.
I have drawn my hands away
At last to touch the ungathered rose. 0 stay,
Moment of dissolving happiness! Astir
Already in the sky, night's chorister
Has brushed a petal from the jasmine moon,
And the heron has passed by, alas, how soon!
I have drawn my hands away
Like ships for guidance in the lift and spray
Of stars that urge them toward an unknown goal.
Drift, 0 wakeful one, 0 restless soul,
Until the glittering white open hand
Of heaven thou shalt read and understand.
