God then,
encompassing all things, is
defenseless? Omnipotence
has been tossed away, reduced
to a wisp of damp wool?
And we,
frightened, bored, wanting
only to sleep till catastrophe
has raged, clashed, seethed and gone by
without us,
wanting then
to awaken in quietude without remembrance
of agony,
we who in shamefaced private hope
had looked to be plucked from fire and
given
a bliss we deserved for having imagined it,
is it implied that we
must protect this perversely weak
animal, whose muzzle’s nudgings
suppose there is milk to be found in us?
Must hold to our icy hearts
a shivering God?
So be it.
Come, rag of pungent
quiverings,
dim start.
Let’s try
if something human still
can
shield you,
spark
of remote light.
Denise
Levertov
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