Wednesday, June 4, 2014

not perfect, never perfect

The Angels and the Furies
by May Sarton
Have you not wounded yourself
And battered those you love
By sudden motions of evil,
Black rage in the blood
When the soul, premier danseur,
Springs toward a murderous fall?
The furies possess you.
Have you not surprised yourself
Sometimes by sudden motions
Or intimations of goodness,
When the soul, premier danseur,
Perfectly poised,
Could shower blessings
With a graceful turn of the head?
The angels are there.
The angels, the furies
Are never far away
While we dance, we dance,
Trying to keep a balance
To be perfectly human
(Not perfect, never perfect,
Never an end to growth and peril),
Able to bless and forgive
This is what is asked of us.
It is light that matters,
The light of understanding.
Who has ever reached it
Who has not met the furies again and again?
Who has reached it without
Those sudden acts of grace?


joanne said...

Yes - the angels and the furies...
I would like to meet a few more angels now please :)
Great poem!

catie said...


Anna & Co said...

beautiful!so true

Anonymous said...

I've been reading a journal of solitude by May Sarton for a few months now. I've never felt so in tune with a book, or an author. The pages are falling out - 25 cents at our local library so that's been slowing me down. It feels like me anyway.

Liane said...

anon- my mom went through a big sarton reading phase. i've not read her books but will check out the one you mention, thanks.

Lari Washburn said...

So lovely. Thankyou.