The Sleeper Awake
Am I not free to give my money to whom I will?
I
I do not tremble
at a newborn's anguished grimace.
I do not cower at destitution, ache
of hunger, pain of need.
My sons rue me, daughters detest my deeds, what I've
done, their patrimony; for I have dealt death to my children.
Yes! Thorns sown, births choked,
Loves poisoned and rent;
but I AM not put to shame.
II
I once was
riven by the Dearths! Í
knew not which wage was worse:
to watch them- my children! weep
and wail, the great grief of Harrowing; or,
after aeons, to turn and look away.
Not so (I remember!) in the beginning.
But my Son! Oh my Son! has done a beautiful thing
for me.
III
I have seen Him
coming down, stooping,
marred by the hate of it, the
weight of it well-worn;
Head held high and humbled, hurled down
a hero! My heart welled at the sight of Him -
the pride of a father grew: Í never
knew my Begotten could seem so,
and yet he had his Mother's eyes.
IV
I do not tremble
at the newborn's ancient grimace.
I do not cower at destitution, rake
of hunger, reign of need.
My Son has received his inheritance, my Daughter accepted the
sword, their patrimony; for I have dealt death to my Children.
Yes! Thorns reaped, births reborn,
Love chosen and spent;
and I AM not put to shame.
For I AM Adam
and I AM Very Good.
