Here pause: these graves are all too young as yet.
The mountains and rivers are destroyed,
the earth a little darker than sky at the horizon,
and all things flow out from that source.
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand,
and such, as yet once more I trust to have.
To be attached to things is illusion,
I know having seen God, but to wonder,
surprised by joy—impatient as the Wind–
their names, the wind of romance hard against it,
in a flower’s throat
can make a stone of the heart.
— you whom I’ve felt missing all this time
be the green grass above me
Answer, if you hear the words under the words.
Recursion Three: panning for gold — a cento for naming constellations
Lines from the following poems:
“Adonais” Percy Bysshe Shelley
“In the old days a poet once said” Ko Un
“Before” Carl Adamshick
“Rain” Don Paterson
“The Stolen Child” W. B. Yeats
“On His Deceased Wife” John Milton
“Stirred Up By Rain” Chase Twichell
“Arise, Go Down” Li-Young Lee
“Surprised By Joy” William Wordsworth
“I Can Afford Neither the Rain” Holly Iglesias
“Dear J.” Kazim Ali
“Easter 1916” W. B. Yeats
“Breaking Across Us Now” Katie Ford
Song [“When I am dead, my dearest”] Christina Rossetti
“The Words Under the Words” Naomi Shihab Nye