Clean, Tall, Green, Still
by JOHN HOLMES
INTO the darkness of my lonely sleep the sun
Spread slow at first, with a stranger’s corner look,
Then fast, faster, till his golden light at a run
Shouted in every room of my mind, Awake, oh wake!
Spread slow at first, with a stranger’s corner look,
Then fast, faster, till his golden light at a run
Shouted in every room of my mind, Awake, oh wake!
Stumbling outdoors from my night to morning ground,
I stared at the world’s grass, a wall’s shine,
At a fountain elm in all history unowned,
And a cloud, I said, that could be seen from Spain.
I stared at the world’s grass, a wall’s shine,
At a fountain elm in all history unowned,
And a cloud, I said, that could be seen from Spain.
What I do first today must be water-clean,
Old color of sun, breathe like an elm tree tall,
As right and easy in love as leaves are green,
Flow up like the tree, and like the tree stand still.
Old color of sun, breathe like an elm tree tall,
As right and easy in love as leaves are green,
Flow up like the tree, and like the tree stand still.
It was early, everything yet to be told and given,
The light wet boughs waiting there to be blown,
And each thin least leaf to the Monday air open,
Of a new day all gay and green almost begun.
The light wet boughs waiting there to be blown,
And each thin least leaf to the Monday air open,
Of a new day all gay and green almost begun.