Sometimes, apart in sleep, by chance, <br />You fall out of my arms, alone, <br />Into the chaos of your separate trance. <br />My eyes gaze through your forehead, through the bone, <br />And see where in your sleep distress has torn <br />Its path, which on your lips is shown <br />And on your hands and in your dream forlorn. <br /> <br />Restless, you turn to me and press <br />Those timid words against my ear <br />Which thunder at my heart like stones. <br />'Mercy,' you plead, Then 'Who can bless?' <br />You ask. 'I am pursued by Time,' you moan. <br /> <br />I watch that precipice of fear <br />You tread, naked in naked distress. <br />To that deep care we are committed <br />Beneath the wildness of our flesh <br />And shuddering horror of our dream, <br />Where unmasked agony is permitted. <br /> <br />Our bodies, stripped of clothes that seem, <br />And our souls, stripped of beauty's mesh, <br />Meet their true selves, their charms outwitted. <br />This pure trance is the oracle <br />That speaks no language but the heart <br /> <br />Our angel with our devil meets <br />In the atrocious dark nor do they part <br />But each forgives and greets, <br />And their mutual terrors heal <br />Within our married miracle.<br /><br />Stephen Spender<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-trance-2/
