A Marriage
We met
under a shower
of bird-notes.
Fifty years passed,
love's moment
in a world in
servitude to time.
She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
'Come,' said death,
choosing her as his
partner for
the last dance. And she,
who in life
had done everything
with a bird's grace,
opened her bill now
for the shedding
of one sigh no
heavier than a feather.
This poem by R. S. Thomas reminds me of this by D. H. Lawrence, the concluding lines of his poem Bei Hennef:
You are the call and I am the answer,
You are the wish, and I the fulfilment,
You are the night, and I the day.
What else? It is perfect enough.
It is perfectly complete,
You and I,
What more - ?
Strange, how we suffer in spite of this!
And this reminds me of...
...to be continued...
3 comments:
RS at his most tender. Not always something I often think of in him. Very moving.
I remember hating RS Thomas at school. Clearly time to reassess. Thanks for showing me error of my (very old) prejudices.
Thanks for reminding me of that RS Thomas poem, lovely.
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