The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was Spawning snow and pink roses against it Soundlessly collateral and incompatible: World is suddener than we fancy it. World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various. And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes - On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's hands - There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.
This has been one of my favourite poems for 50 years.
And I don't quite know why it is. Now I can see that
it is in a conversation with other poetry.
For instance Graves' Warning To Children.
And as I was googling I came upon a kind of riposte poem,
an anti numinous poem by Geoffrey Hill.
But when I first found it in an anthology it came into my
consciousness in a very free and clear way. And I hold onto that.