Primary Wonder - Denise Levertov

 




Days pass when I forget the mystery.


Problems insoluble and problems offering

their own ignored solutions

jostle for my attention, they crowd its antechamber

along with a host of diversions, my courtiers, wearing

their colored clothes; caps and bells.

And then

once more the quiet mystery

is present to me, the throng's clamor

recedes: the mystery

that there is anything, anything at all,

let alone cosmos, joy. memory. everything,

rather than void: and that, O Lord,

Creator, Hallowed One, You still,

hour by hour sustain it.

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