After the red leaf and the gold have gone, Brought down by the wind, then by hammering rain Bruised and discolored, when October’s flame Goes blue to guttering in the cusp, this land Sinks deeper into silence, darker into shade. There is a knowledge in the look of things, The old hills hunch before the north wind blows. Now I can see certain simplicities In the darkening rust and tarnish of time, And say over the certain simplicities, The running water and the standing stone, The yellow haze of the willow and the black Smoke of the elm, the silver, silent light Where suddenly, readying toward nightfall, The sumac’s candelabrum darkly flames. And I speak to you now with the land’s voice, It is the cold, wild land that says to you A knowledge glimmers in the sleep of things: The old hills hunch before the north wind blows. ~ Howard Nemerov, American Poet There is so much beauty in the language of this poem. The words carry such solid wisdom. We are in this seas...
A Blog of Personal Essays, Quotations, Photos, and More