Anonymous as cherubs
Over the crib of God,
White seeds are floating
Out of my burst pod.
What power had I
Before I learned to yield?
Shatter me, great wind:
I shall possess the field.
Over the crib of God,
White seeds are floating
Out of my burst pod.
What power had I
Before I learned to yield?
Shatter me, great wind:
I shall possess the field.
Richard Wilbur
Two Voices in a Meadow
I like both of these but that long one with the old piece of wood is just beautiful! Thanks for sharing the poem, too.
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