If ever a garden was Gethsemane,
with old tombs set high against
the crumpled olive tree–and lichen,
this, my garden, has been to me.
For such as I none other is so sweet:
Lacking old tombs, here stands my grief,
and certainly its ancient tree.
Peace is here and in every season
a quiet beauty.
The sky falling about me
evenly to the compass . . .
What is sorrow but tenderness now
in this earth-close frame of land and sky
falling constantly into horizons
of east and west, north and south;
what is pain but happiness here
amid these green and wordless patterns,–
indefinite texture of blade and leaf:
Beauty of an old, old tree,
last comfort in Gethsemane.
Anne Spencer
(Anne Spencer)
More Poetry from Anne Spencer:
Anne Spencer Poems based on Topics: Garden, Beauty, Grief, Nature, War & PeaceReaders Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Nature Poems, War & Peace Poems, Beauty Poems, Grief Poems, Garden PoemsBased on Keywords: spencer, evenly, indefinite, tree-and