I ran across this poem by Denise Levertov recently while I was doing some writing about Ignatius Loyola’s view of gratitude. It may be July, but it’s pleasant to think about snow.

Praise wet snow
           falling early.
Praise the shadow
           my neighbor’s chimney casts on the tile roof
even this gray October day that should, they say,
have been golden.
                      Praise
the invisible sun burning beyond
           the white cold sky, giving us
light and the chimney’s shadow.
Praise
god or the gods, the unknown,
that which imagined us, which stays
our hand,
our murderous hand,
                      and gives us
still,
in the shadow of death,
           our daily life,
           and the dream still
of goodwill, of peace on earth.
Praise
flow and change, night and
the pulse of day.

Tagged as: Denise Levertov, poem

July 20, 2010