A Better Resurrection

If someone could explain why the first stanza of this poem is being attributed to Sylvia Plath on several credible websites, I'd be happy to know. I think Rossetti is a safer bet.

A Better Resurrection
by Christina Rossetti

I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numb'd too much for hopes or fears;
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimm'd with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf:
O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk:
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall--the sap of Spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.

My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perish'd thing;
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King:
O Jesus, drink of me

Dancing Around You

photo courtesy of flickr user "tavopp"

Dancing Around You

dancing around you like a child
around a flame
around a bubble
everything you could mean
is too fragile still, dangerous,
and silent.

dancing around you like a child
in the music
in the hope
everything you could mean
is the falsetto note
that turns my heart
into a ringing well.

dancing around you like a child
through the sunrise
through the wet laundry
everything you could mean
runs like fresh water
into a cold glass to have
and to hold.

c.l.l.
9.3.07