Poems On Water

Like The Water by Wendell Berry
Like the water
of a darksome stream,
love is always too much.
We did not make it.
though we drink till we burst,
we cannot have it all,
or want it all.
In its abundance
it survives our thirst.

In the evening we come down to the shore
to drink our fill,
and sleep,
speckle it flows
through the regions of the dark.
It does not hold us,
except we keep move to its rich waters
thirsty.

We enter,
willing to die,
into the commonwealth of its joy.
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Where Once The Waters Of Your Face by Dylan Thomas
Where at once the waters of your face
Spun to my screws, your dry ghost blows,
The dead turns up its tenderness;
Where once the mermen through your ice
Pushed up their hair, the dry wind steers
by means of salt and root and roe.





Where once your common knots sank their splice
Into the tided cord, there goes
The green unraveller,
His scissors oiled, his knife hung loose
To cut the channels at their source
And fructify the wet fruits low.

Invisible, your clocking tides
Break on the lovebeds of the rafts;
The weed of loves left dry;
There round about your stones the shades
Of children go who, from their voids,
Cry to the dolphined sea.

Dry as a tomb, your coloured lids
Shall not be latched while magic glides
Sage on the earth and sky;
There shall be corals in your beds
There shall be serpents in your tides,
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