Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SEASON FOR THE MILD, by HOWARD MCKINLEY CORNING


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SEASON FOR THE MILD, by            
First Line: Ocean is man's great thought. He comes
Last Line: All wisdom haunts him, earthless and complete.


Ocean is man's great thought. He comes
Intemperate of mood to seek and trace
Across her bounding surface the brave sums
Of truth his pride invites; the green-lit grace
Of waters is upon him. Earth is gone.
All loamy fields long plowed, the breasts well kissed,
Dispel their purpose; he is free, alone,
And thought is on him like perpetual mist.
He is not less earth's own for being given
A season to this greatness. In his veins
The myrtle garden where the spade is driven
Grows green for burial of what remains.
His body answers earth. But here, salt sweet,
All wisdom haunts him, earthless and complete.





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