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I'm a Minnesota Girl, living in the south. I tell my friends I try not to talk and think like a Yankee, but sometimes I slip up!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Perfect Poem



With my latest cycle of work-sleep-work-sleep-work, this Maya Stein poem really "speaks" to me! I hope you'll feel the same!

always, at the end of every day

It comes to this: the fall to bed. Despite Herculean hopes to repair
the broken furniture, to birth works of unassailable beauty,
despite a heart with its tongue out, panting for love, or the hawk stare
we train on our most extravagant intentions. Despite the toothy
rigor of the bad habits we can’t break, and the soul-trials of discipline
which repeatedly establish our guilt. Despite these wayward exiles from joy,
we fall to a set of pillows, cotton sheets, a mattress, and make a cocoon
of our bodies. We won’t admit it, but we’re designed for rest, too, a buoy
to save us from the rough seas we insist on weathering. Look how little
it takes for that kind of surrender. How easy we can be, how gentle.

4 comments:

Kelly said...

This poem says well what I have often felt.

Marion said...

Beautiful poem, Lynne. I miss my bed. I'm on either of one or two couches. Every few weeks I try the bed to no avail. It murders me, cripples me. Oh, to sleep all night on my soft pink sheets in my cool bedroom. But no, I fight the couch cushions and the cats for rest. Love & Blessings...

Felicity Grace Terry said...

I'm with Kelly, this poem speaks for a lot of us I'm sure.

Serena said...

Beautiful! And I can so identify with it.