The Coming of Light

Mark Strand

 
Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.
 
Excerpted from The Late Hour by Mark Strand. Copyright © 2002 by Mark Strand. Excerpted by permission of Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

Poems by This Author

From the Long Sad Party by Mark Strand
Someone was saying
Man and Camel by Mark Strand
On the eve of my fortieth birthday
My Mother on an Evening in Late Summer by Mark Strand
When the moon appears
The Everyday Enchantment of Music by Mark Strand
A rough sound was polished until it became a smoother sound, which was polished until it


Further Reading

Poems About Chanukah
Light breaks where no sun shines
by Dylan Thomas
Meditations on the Fall and Winter Holidays
by Charles Reznikoff
Notes on the Spring Holidays, III, [Hanukkah]
by Charles Reznikoff
The Feast of Lights
by Emma Lazarus