I’m currently reading Stitches by Anne Lamott who I heard at Greenbelt this year and then got semi-star-struck as she signed my copy. Anne is a superb writer and she quotes in this book from a poem by Jane Kenyon. Here is the poem, it’s been haunting me since I googled it. Really beautiful. Enjoy.
Briefly It Enters, Briefly Speaks
I am the blossom pressed in a book,found again after two hundred years. . . .
I am the maker, the lover, and the keeper….
When the young girl who starvessits down to a tableshe will sit beside me. . . .
I am food on the prisoner’s plate. . . .
I am water rushing to the wellhead,filling the pitcher until it spills. . . .
I am the patient gardenerof the dry and weedy garden. . . .
I am the stone step,the latch, and the working hinge. . . .
I am the heart contracted by joy. . . .
the longest hair, whitebefore the rest. . . .
I am there in the basket of fruitpresented to the widow. . . .
I am the musk rose openingunattended, the fern on the boggy summit. . . .
I am the one whose loveovercomes you, already with youwhen you think to call my name. . . .
“Briefly It Enters, and Briefly Speaks” by Jane Kenyon from Collected Poems. Copyright © 2005 by the Estate of Jane Kenyon. Reprinted with permission of Graywolf Press, www.graywolfpress.org.
Source: Collected Poems (Graywolf Press, 2005)