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Lazarus

Rating: 3.0

“No, Mary, there was nothing—not a word.
Nothing, and always nothing. Go again
Yourself, and he may listen—or at least
Look up at you, and let you see his eyes.
I might as well have been the sound of rain,
A wind among the cedars, or a bird;
Or nothing. Mary, make him look at you;
And even if he should say that we are nothing,
To know that you have heard him will be something.
And yet he loved us, and it was for love

The Master gave him back. Why did he wait
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Michael Walker 20 February 2020

Much too long a poem, uncharacteristic of Robinson. Then again, a long poem seems longer, less inviting on a computer screen than in a book.

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