My father moved through dooms of ...

50 Poems (1940)

My father moved through dooms of love (CP 520)

34

My father moved through dooms of lovethrough sames of am through haves of give,singing each morning out of each nightmy father moved through depths of height

this motionless forgetful whereturned at his glance to shining here;that if(so timid air is firm)under his eyes would stir and squirm

newly as from unburied whichfloats the first who,his april touchdrove sleeping selves to swarm their fateswoke dreamers to their ghostly roots

and should some why completely weepmy father’s fingers brought her sleep:vainly no smallest voice might cryfor he could feel the mountains grow.

Lifting the valleys of the seamy father moved through griefs of joy;praising a forehead called the moonsinging desire into begin

joy was his song and joy so purea heart of star by him could steerand pure so now and now so yesthe wrists of twilight would rejoice

keen as midsummer’s keen beyondconceiving mind of sun will stand,so strictly(over utmost himso hugely) stood my father’s dream

his flesh was flesh his blood was blood:no hungry man but wished him food;no cripple wouldn’t creep one mileuphill to only see him smile.

Scorning the Pomp of must and shallmy father moved through dooms of feel;his anger was as right as rainhis pity was as green as grain

septembering arms of year extendyes humbly wealth to foe and friendthan he to foolish and to wise offered immeasurable is

proudly and(by octobering flamebeckoned)as earth will downward climb,so naked for immortal workhis shoulders marched against the dark

his sorrow was as true as bread:no liar looked him in the head;if every friend became his foehe’d laugh and build a world with snow.

My father moved through theys of we,singing each new leaf out of each tree(and every child was sure that springdanced when she heard my father sing)

then let men kill which cannot share,let blood and flesh be mud and mire,scheming imagine,passion willed,freedom a drug that’s bought and sold

giving to steal and cruel kind,a heart to fear,to doubt a mind,to differ a disease of same,conform the pinnacle of am

though dull were all we taste as bright,bitter all utterly things sweet,maggoty minus and dumb deathall we inherit,all bequeath

and nothing quite so least as truth—i say though hate were why men breathe—because my Father lived his soullove is the whole and more than all

from 50 Poems (1940)