I thought I was growing wings —
it was a cocoon.
I thought, now is the time to step
into the fire —
it was deep water.
Eschatology is a word I learned
as a child: the study of Last Things;
facing my mirror — no longer young,
the news — always of death,
the dogs — rising from sleep and clamoring
and howling, howling,
nevertheless
I see for a moment
that's not it: it is
the First Things.
Word after word
floats through the glass.
Towards me.
~ Denise Levertov ~
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Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
~ William Butler Yeats ~