i12bent: Denise Levertov, British-born confessional poet, associated with the Black Mountain school: Oct. 24, 1023 - 1997… Everything that Acts Is Actual - Denise Levertov From the tawny light from the rainy nights from the imagination finding itself and more than itself alone and more than alone at the bottom of the well where the moon lives, can you pull me into December? a lowland of space, perception of space towering of shadows of clouds blown upon clouds over                 new ground, new made under heavy December footsteps? the only way to live? The flawed moon acts on the truth, and makes an autumn of tentative silences. You lived, but somewhere else, your presence touched others, ring upon ring, and changed. Did you think I would not change?                            The black moon turns away, its work done. A tenderness, unspoken autumn. We are faithful only to the imagination. What the imagination                     seizes as beauty must be truth. What holds you to what you see of me is that grasp alone. — from Collected Earlier Poems 1940-1960. Copyright 1949 View high resolution

i12bent:

Denise Levertov, British-born confessional poet, associated with the Black Mountain school: Oct. 24, 1023 - 1997…

Everything that Acts Is Actual - Denise Levertov

From the tawny light
from the rainy nights
from the imagination finding
itself and more than itself
alone and more than alone
at the bottom of the well where the moon lives,
can you pull me

into December? a lowland
of space, perception of space
towering of shadows of clouds blown upon
clouds over
                 new ground, new made
under heavy December footsteps? the only
way to live?

The flawed moon
acts on the truth, and makes
an autumn of tentative
silences.
You lived, but somewhere else,
your presence touched others, ring upon ring,
and changed. Did you think
I would not change?

                            The black moon
turns away, its work done. A tenderness,
unspoken autumn.
We are faithful
only to the imagination. What the
imagination
                     seizes
as beauty must be truth. What holds you
to what you see of me is
that grasp alone.

— from Collected Earlier Poems 1940-1960. Copyright 1949

(Reblogged from i12bent)

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