Resurrection

Now, I said, that I am done
Even with sorrow —
Never any more yesterday nor to-day,
Never to-morrow;
Now that the worm, resentment.
Hath eaten my heart out wholly,
I will stretch out in its empty husk,
I solely,
Uncompanioned by grief or hope or wonder,
Knowing life only as the word
Death pronounces,
Crushing its dry husk under.

Here in my eyeless void,
Emptied even of my pulse’s stirring,
Darkling I heard
Earth’s timeless axles whirring,
From seas unreckoned
The foam-slavered sea pack
Yelp on the moon’s cold traces;
Low in their places,
I that was done with wonder
Heard the unhurrying grasses
Lisping their leaves asunder.