There are some griefs so loud They could bring down the sky, And there are griefs so still None knows how deep they lie, Endured, never expended. There are old griefs so proud They never speak a word They never can be mended And these nourish the will And keep it iron-hard.
The Invocation to Kali by May Sarton
There are times when I think only of killing The voracious animal who is my perpetual shame, The violent one Whose raging demands Break down peace and shelter Like a peacock’s scream. There are times when I think only of how to do away With this brute power That cannot be tamed. I am the […]
A Prayer by May Sarton
Help us to be the always hopeful gardeners of the spirit who know that without darkness nothing comes to birth as without light nothing flowers.