And if sun comes <br />How shall we greet him? <br />Shall we not dread him, <br />Shall we not fear him <br />After so lengthy a <br />Session with shade? <br /> <br />Though we have wept for him, <br />Though we have prayed <br />All through the night-years— <br />What if we wake one shimmering morning to <br />Hear the fierce hammering <br />Of his firm knuckles <br />Hard on the door? <br /> <br />Shall we not shudder?— <br />Shall we not flee <br />Into the shelter, the dear thick shelter <br />Of the familiar <br />Propitious haze? <br /> <br />Sweet is it, sweet is it <br />To sleep in the coolness <br />Of snug unawareness. <br /> <br />The dark hangs heavily <br />Over the eyes.<br /><br />Gwendolyn Brooks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/truth-241/
