Poetry of the day

HYMN

I have come down from my hermitage;

I have a job, a family, friends.

I don’t have any more that swift accurate eye

for naming things, names

that parted the world.

Now I grope carefully,

edge to the fringes of new meanings

and hold back.

The world is full

of old meanings.

I am learning to weep

another kind of weeping,

that does not lift me

with its knowledge.

I am too far from home now,

making family, friends, like pacts

for safe passage.