Poems, 1957–1967

ON THE HILL BELOW THE LIGHTHOUSE

ON THE HILL BELOW THE LIGHTHOUSE Now I can be sure of my sleep; I have lost the blue sea in my eyelids. From a place in the mind too deep For thought, a light like a wind is beginning. Now I can be sure of my sleep. When the moon is held strongly within it, The eye of the mind opens gladly. Day changes to dark, and is bright, And miraclestrust to the body, When the moon is held strongly within it. A woman comes true when I think her. Her eyes on the window are closing. She has dressed the stark wood of a chair. Her form and my body are facing. A woman comes true when I think her. Shade swings, and she lies against me. The lighthouse has opened its brain. A browed light travels the sea. Her clothes on the chair spread their wings. Shade swings, and she lies against me. Let us lie in returning light, As a bright arm sweeps through the moon. The sun is dead, thinking of night Swung round like a thing on a chain. Let us lie in returning light. Let us lie where your angel is walking In shadow, from wall onto wall, Cast forth from your off-cast clothing To pace the dim room where we fell. Let us lie where your angel is walking, Coming back, coming back, going over. An arm turns the light world around Into the Stone 4 3 The dark. Again we are waiting to hover In a blaze in the mind like a wind Coming back, coming back, going over. Now I can be sure of my sleep; The moon is held strongly within it. A woman comes true when I think her. Shade swings, and she lies against me. Let us liein returning light; Let us lie where your angel is walking, Coming back, coming back, going over. 44 ...