Often I Am Permitted to Return to a Meadow

Robert Duncan

 
as if it were a scene made-up by the mind,
that is not mine, but is a made place,
that is mine, it is so near to the heart,
an eternal pasture folded in all thought
so that there is a hall therein
that is a made place, created by light
wherefrom the shadows that are forms fall.
Wherefrom fall all architectures I am
I say are likenesses of the First Beloved
whose flowers are flames lit to the Lady.
She it is Queen Under The Hill
whose hosts are a disturbance of words within words
that is a field folded.
It is only a dream of the grass blowing
east against the source of the sun
in an hour before the sun's going down
whose secret we see in a children's game
of ring a round of roses told.
Often I am permitted to return to a meadow
as if it were a given property of the mind
that certain bounds hold against chaos,
that is a place of first permission,
everlasting omen of what is.
 
by Robert Duncan, from The Opening of the Field. Copyright © 1960 by Robert Duncan. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp.

Poems by This Author

Achilles' Song by Robert Duncan
I do not know more than the Sea tells me
My Mother Would Be a Falconress by Robert Duncan
My mother would be a falconress,
Structure of Rime IV by Robert Duncan
Such Is the Sickness of Many a Good Thing by Robert Duncan
Was he then Adam of the Burning Way


Further Reading

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From Trance Notebook #2 [nerdy questions about exact pitch]
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Thoughts
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Why I Am Not a Buddhist
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