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Theodore Roethke - In A Dark Time
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    In a dark time, the eye begins to see, 		
     I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;		
     I hear my echo in the echoing wood—		
     A lord of nature weeping to a tree.		
     I live between the heron and the wren,		
     Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.								
     What`s madness but nobility of soul		
     At odds with circumstance? The day`s on fire!	
     I know the purity of pure despair,			
     My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.		
     That place among the rocks—is it a cave,		
     Or a winding path? The edge is what I have.	
						
     A steady storm of correspondences!			
     A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,		
     And in broad day the midnight come again!		
     A man goes far to find out what he is—		
     Death of the self in a long, tearless night,	
     All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.	
		
     Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire.		
     My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,	
     Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?		
     A fallen man, I climb out of my fear.		
     The mind enters itself, and God the mind,		
     And one is One, free in the tearing wind.
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