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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=395835" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>O Who Will Speak From a Womb or a Cloud?</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=395835" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Not less light shall the gold and the green lie<br>On the cyclonic curl and diamonded eye, than<br>Love lay yesterday on the breast like a beast.<br>Not less light shall God tread my maze of nerve<br>Than that great dread of tomorrow drove over<br>My maze of days. Not less terrible that tread<br>Stomping upon your grave than I shall tread there.<br>Who is a god to haunt the tomb but Love?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=395835" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Therefore I shall be there at morning and midnight,<br>Not with a straw in my hair and a tear as Ophelia<br>Floating along my sorrow, but I shall come with<br>The cabala of things, the cipher of nature, so that<br>With the mere flounce of a bird's feather crest<br>I shall speak to you where you sit in all trees,<br>Where you conspire with all things that are dead.<br>Who is so far that Love cannot speak to him?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=395835" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">So that no corner can hide you, no autumn of leaves<br>So deeply close over you that I shall not find you,<br>To stretch down my hand and sting you with life<br>Like poison that resurrects. O remember<br>How once the Lyrae dazzled and how the Novembers<br>Smoked, so that blood burned, flashed its mica,<br>And that was life. Now if I dip my hand in your grave<br>Shall I find it bloody with autumn and bright with stars?<br>Who is to answer if you will not answer me?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=395835" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But you are the not yet dead, so cannot answer.<br>Hung by a hair's breadth to the breath of a lung,<br>Nothing you know of the hole over which you hang<br>But that it's dark and deep as tomorrow midnight.<br>I ask, but you cannot answer except with words<br>Which show me the mere interior of your fear,<br>The reverse face of the world. But this,<br>This is not death, the standing on the head<br>So that a sky is seen. O who<br>Who but the not yet born can tell me of my bourne?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=395835" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Lie you there, lie you there, my never, never,<br>Never to be delivered daughter, so wise in ways<br>Where you perch like a bird beyond the horizon,<br>Seeing but not being seen, above our being?<br>Then tell me, shall the meeting ever be,<br>When the corpse dives back through the womb<br>To clasp his child before it ever was?<br>Who but the dead can kiss the not yet born?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=395835" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Sad is space between a start and a finish,<br>Like the rough roads of stars, fiery and mad.<br>I go between birth and the urn, a bright ash<br>Soon blazed to blank, like a fire-ball. But<br>Nothing I bring from the before, no message,<br>No clue, no key, no answer. I hear no echo,<br>Only the sheep's blood dripping from the gun,<br>The serpent's tear like fire along the branch.<br>O who will speak from a womb or a cloud?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=George+Barker">George Barker</a></strong></div>