AT THE BLACK ROCK
—May Sarton
Anger's the beast in me.
In you it is pride.
When they meet they lock.
There is no pity.
At the black rock
Where the beasts hide
Love turns to hate
In a cruel war,
And once it's begun
It is always too late
To be patient or fair.
And no one can win.
Let us go to the rock
Where the beasts hide
And kneeling there, pray
For some heart-cracking shock
To set us both free
From anger and pride.
At the cold impasse
Tame the anguished cries,
Mend what has been torn,
Bring the animals peace
Where they stand forlorn
With love in their eyes.
Can I do it? Can you?
It means yielding all.
It means going naked
No refuge but rue,
Admitting stark need—
Eden after the fall.
___________________
—Medusa