What words or harder gift
does the light require of me
carving from the dark
this difficult tree?
What place or farther peace
do I almost see
emerging from the night
and heart of me?
The sky whitens, goes on and on.
Fields wrinkle into rows
of cotton, go on and on.
Night like a fling of crows
disperses and is gone.
What song, what home,
what calm or one clarity
can I not quite come to,
never quite see:
this field, this sky, this tree.
Christian Wiman's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Hard Night by Christian Wiman )
- The Rest, Frank Avon
- The kingdom, gajanan mishra
- The Headland Wreck, David Lewis Paget
- THE MIND OF POET, Kashif khan
- Spiritually Bound, Michael McParland
- Sky is red, Aftab Alam
- Musings., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- TRUST, maharshi trivedi
- Alone in December, James Anthony Creamer
- Mind Albums, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
- Heather Burns
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 September 1907 – 3 September 1963)