Transfiguration

—Anonymous Photo

SUMMER MORN IN NEW HAMPSHIRE
—Claude McKay (1889-1948)
 
All yesterday it poured, and all night long
    

   I could not sleep; the rain unceasing beat


Upon the shingled roof like a weird song,
    

   Upon the grass like running children’s feet.


And down the mountains by the dark cloud kissed,
    

   Like a strange shape in filmy veiling dressed,


Slid slowly, silently, the wraith-like mist,
    

   And nestled soft against the earth’s wet breast.


But lo, there was a miracle at dawn!
    

   The still air stirred at touch of the faint breeze,


The sun a sheet of gold bequeathed the lawn,
    

   The songsters twittered in the rustling trees.


And all things were transfigured in the day,
    

   But me whom radiant beauty could not move;


For you, more wonderful, were far away,
    

   And I was blind with hunger for your love.

_______________________

—Medusa