Gloria

Praise the wet snow

falling early.

Praise the shadow

my neighor’s chimney casts on the tile roof

even this gray October day that should, they say,

have been golden.

Praise

the invisible sun burning beyond

the white cold sky, giving us

light and the chimney’s shadow.

Praise

god or the gods, the unknown,

that which imagined us, which stays

our hand,

our murderous hand,

and gives us

still,

in the shadow of death,

our daily life,

and the dream still

of goodwill, of peace on earth.

Praise

flow and change, night and

the pulse of day.

— Denise Levertov

Thanks Chris.

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