So beautiful--God himself quailed 
at her approach: the long body curved 
like the horizon. Why had he made 
her so? How would it be, she said, 
leaning towards him, if instead of 
quarreling over it, we divided it 
between us? You can have all the credit 
for its invention, if you will leave the ordering 
of it to me. He looked into her 
eyes and saw far down the bones 
of the generations that would navigate 
by those great stars, but the pull of it 
was too much. Yes, he thought, give me their minds' 
tribute, and what they do with their bodies 
is not my concern. He put his hand in his side 
and drew out the thorn for the letting 
of the ordained blood and touched her with 
it. Go, he said. They shall come to you for ever 
with their desire, and you shall bleed for them in return.

Added: Feb 21 2003 | Viewed: 475 times | Comments (0)

Poet: R.S. Thomas
Poem: The Woman

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