A Little Bit into Christmas

Giver of Stars

Hold your soul open for my welcoming.
Let the quiet of your spirit bathe me
With its clear and rippled coolness,
That, loose-limbed and weary, I find rest,
Outstretched upon your peace, as on a bed of ivory.

Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me,
That into my limbs may come the keenness of fire,
The life and joy of tongues of flame,
And, going out from you, tightly strung and in tune,
I may rouse the blear-eyed world,
And pour into it the beauty which you have begotten.

By Amy Lowell

I just read this and it was like a Christmas gift from Amy Lowell given in 1914 received 103 years later.

This entry was posted in my museum of inspiration, Other peoples words, poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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