Thursday, May 17, 2007

Thanksgiving in May

While looking up an essay today in Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies, I was reminded of this wonderful poem by W.S. Merwin, which serves as the epigraph for Lamott's book. The poem is from Merwin's The Rain in the Trees. In searching for the text of the poem online, I see I'm far from the first blogger to reprint it. (I also see there are slightly different versions online, and since I don't have his book, I can't tell if sloppy blogging is at fault or if there actually are different versions by Merwin. I'm printing it as it appears in Lamott's book.)

THANKS
By W.S. Merwin

Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping o­n the bridge to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water looking out
in different directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
in a country up to its chin in shame
living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the back door
and the beatings o­n stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks that use us we are saying thank you
with crooks in office with the rich and fashionable
unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is


1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I've just read this through twice. It's amazing. I'm in awe.

7:31 PM  

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