Desires

Desire to leave the body in a room,

Or somewhere in the ground, the final heir,

To rid the spirit of its pose of wind

And reach the calm reality at last,

Is never granted to the living man,

But to the dead who is beyond desire.

I know a moment comes to me as clear

As the first star on a waiting winter night;

The body fails, and all the reaching out,

The torment in the airless heart, the grief,

The blindness, and the long misunderstanding,

Fail with the body too; and God is here,

The ultimate, the absolute, the life.

Why does the moment pass? I cannot live

Knowing the imperfection of my living.

Why does the moment come to me and pass?

My life is not so strong that it can watch

Perfection lasting less than the evening star,

Then turn to lesser sights ; nor hated so

That I would wish for death, though death is still

The only life where I can be appeased.