The Heap

You stand before the mirror

in imprecation,

pressing your ulna

to the cracked paint.

                                                            

                     Zeal for your house—                                                                                                                Zeal for the name—

What is it that you have?

Eyes and tongue.

What is it that you want?

Peace, and more than peace.

The world entire.

Another world.

And what have you done in the earth?

Many things, and few.

Were they worth the doing?

I do not know.

And what will you do?

God! I do not know.

Attend.

There are wheels in the air,

luminous and free.

There are drums in the sea

whose beat you have heard.

There is a face in the fire,

too fierce for your eyes.

And what will you say?

                                                                                                                                    Zeal for the house—                                                                                                                                     Zeal for the name—

Life is longer than you know.