Monday, August 4, 2014

Hope

by Philip Booth
From his collection of poetry entitled PAIRS

Old spirit, in and beyond me,
keep and extend me. Amid strangers,
friends, great trees and big seas breaking,
let love move me. Let me hear the whole music,
see clear, reach deep. Open me to find due words,
that I may shape them to ploughshares of my own making.
After such luck, however late, give me to give to
the oldest dance . . . . Then to good sleep,
and -- if it happens -- glad waking.