|
He |
As it rained all day all night the rain is falling. But suppose morning comes bright, washed things will display new beauty, a world singing. |
|
She |
Morning did come bright. Iridescent the cleaned world, gem-colour-spangled. And clear, still, diamond-lit by washed stars is now the night. |
|
He |
Again night’s vaulting is star-frosted. And, alone, a god’s nail-paring, a silver sliver caught on western darkness, hangs the moon. |
|
She |
Frosted stars are veiled in black. The clean air is thick suddenly with snow, blind in a whirl of shadow whose white glints can build no world. |
|
He |
Under bright sun, whole the world lies, dazzling, bridal, incorruptible. All confusion lost in light it is ours. Rejoice in it. |
|
She |
Hush. Do you not see whiteness pocked, dissolving in commonness, muddy? shimmering light lost again in grey reversion of rain? |
|
Both |
Rain and sun, snow, wind, weather and season, wheeling through the melting now in changing unchanging round, build the world where we must build. |