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Monday, April 19, 2010

Poem: Meeting with a Stranger, James Kirkup, 1947

You, through whose face
all lovely faces look,
and are resolved forever
in your soul’s true mirror:
you, in whose unspoken word
the irrevocable voices speak again,
making in this less divided moment
the remembered music that the heart accords.

O you who are myself and yet another,
who are the world, and the unknown
through which the town, the river,
the familiar gardens and the fountain shines;
here is my hand, and with it let all hands
be given, and be held, in yours and mine.

1 comment:

  1. A beautiful poem with multiple meanings relatig to the transitional interaction between the sacred and the secular. theere is a sense of the Other as expressed by the evolution of attentiveness and awareness of the Presence in others.