The Last Night of the World

Beneath the last trees standing At the edge of your garden, Sparkling with dew drops of morning, Listening to the moon breathe, This night, I’ll place my fear Into the amber hues of twilight, Whispering to the stars, That we still belong here, Even to the smallest insects, Even to the weeds, blooming And pungent; they endure through storms. And I will carry what remains, As the hourglass turns inside out, Bringing the soft gaze of the night, To each back-lit corner of memories. We turn towards the far earth. Hope springs anew.

• Gary Snyder