I just ran across this poem today, and its final lines struck me as some of Evan's favorites. Occasionally, I've seen them on his blog. Here is the poem in its entirety, published by Denise Levertov in her collection: A Door in the Hive.
The Love of Morning
It is hard sometimes to drag ourselves
back to the love of morning
after we've lain in the dark crying out
O God, save us from the horror. . . .
God has saved the world one more day
even with its leaden burden of human evil;
we wake to birdsong.
And if sunlight's gossamer lifts in its net
the weight of all that is solid,
our hearts, too, are lifted,
swung like laughing infants;
but on gray mornings,
all incident – our own hunger,
the dear tasks of continuance,
the footsteps before us in the earth's
beloved dust, leading the way – all,
is hard to love again
for we resent a summons
that disregards our sloth, and this
calls us, calls us.
I love that poem!
Posted by: Evan Donovan at January 5, 2005 11:30 PM