A certain day became a presence to me;
there it was, confronting me--a sky, air, light:
a being. And before it started to descend
from the height of noon, it leaned over
and struck my shoulder as if with
the flat of a sword, granting me
honor and a task. The day's blow
rang out, metallic--or it was I, a bell awakened,
and what I heard was my whole self
saying and singing what it knew: I can.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 762 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Denise Levertov
Poem: Variation On A Theme By Rilke
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