Sabbath poem

1989

VIII

One day I walked imagining

What work I might do here,

The place, once dark, made clear

By work and thought, my managing, 

The world thus made more dear.

I walked and dreamed, the sun in clouds,

Dreamer and day at odds.

The world in its great mystery

Was hidden by my dream.

Today I make no claim; 

I dream of what is here, the tree

Beside the falling stream,

The stone, the light upon the stone; 

And day and dream are one.