Untitled by Gregory Orr

Today, a cheating departure from my own work, only because I can't stand not to share something this beautiful. I received this in my inbox this morning. I intend to buy the book it is excerpted from.



Untitled (This is what was bequeathed us)
by Gregory Orr

This is what was bequeathed us:
This earth the beloved left
And, leaving,
Left to us.

No other world
But this one:
Willows and the river
And the factory
With its black smokestacks.

No other shore, only this bank
On which the living gather.

No meaning but what we find here.
No purpose but what we make.

That, and the beloved’s clear instructions:
Turn me into song; sing me awake.