I wrote this morning of a poem I wasn’t able to find. I found it. It’s a little prose-poem by Dag Hammarskjold in his book, Markings:
“What next? Why ask? Next will come a demand about which you already know all you need to know: that its sole measure is your own strength.” Dag Hammarskjold Markings p. 129
In looking through the book for the first time in many years, I was struck again by its beauty and how differently I read it at 68 and 356 days.
The light died in the low clouds. Falling snow drank in the dusk. Shrouded in silence, the branches wrapped me in their peace. When the boundaries were erased, once again the wonder: that I exist.” Markings 113