Читать книгу Habitation of Wonder - Abigail Carroll - Страница 8

To agree with the lake.

To sing and let sing

bristle grass, a white sail,

beach stones

mottling the shore

in music older

than the human ear.

To be tutored

by a bent reed,

the smooth back

of driftwood

listing, concurring.

To let nouns be nouns

the way the mountains

inhabit the grammar

of their waiting,

the way hawks

refuse to apologize

for flight.

To let in the light

like earth lets in

the shining prophecies

of rain,

like monarchs

let summer dance

gold on the open invitation

of their wings.

To brother the wind.

Not to choose between

tomorrow and today.

Not to refuse the liturgies

of the waves,

the rhetoric

of the glittering sun

spilt.

To be undone.

To note the descant

of a cloud, a cormorant,

tree crickets’ hum,

the signature

of glaciers scrawled

on lichen rock.

To defer to the willow.

Not to prefer ignorance

to the theories of swallows,

the languages of the air.

To enter the concert,

the stirring,

the singing,

the way the bulrush enters

its blooming,

the way sky enters

the glow of evening,

the green-turning-flame

of its song.