Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MUSE IN LATE NOVEMBER, by JONATHAN HENDERSON BROOKS



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MUSE IN LATE NOVEMBER, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: I greet you, son, with joy and winter rue
Last Line: The dream that battles me, may you fulfill.
Subject(s): Bible; Religion; Theology


I greet you, son, with joy and winter rue:
For you the fatted calf, the while I bind
Sackcloth against my heart for siring you
At sundown and the twilight. Child, you find
A sire sure tired of striving with the winds;
Climbing Mount Nebo with laborious breath
To view the land of promise through blurred lens,
Knowing he can not enter, feeling death.

And, as old Israel called his dozen sons
And placed his withered hands upon each head
Ere he was silent with the skeletons
In Mamre of the cold, cave-chambered dead,
So would I bless you with a dreamer's will:
The dream that battles me, may you fulfill.





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