Poem of the Week

Heir to All

By Li-Young Lee

What I spill in a dream
runs under my door,
ahead of my arrival
and the year’s wide round,

to meet me in the color of hills
at dawn, or else collected
in a flower’s name
I trace with my finger
in a book. Proving

only this: Listening is the ground
below my sleep,
where decision is born, and

whoever’s heard the title
autumn knows him by
is heir to all those
unfurnished rooms inside the roses.

***

Sometimes I just like my poetry incomprehensible, you know? Seriously, I don't know that I'm smart enough for poetry like this, but I enjoy it anyway. I can grasp at the meaning of this poem: I imagine it has something to do with nighttime inspiration. However, I find at times that it is far more important to FEEL a poem. Li-Young Lee's poems are full of feeling - lots of fear, unease, and apprehension, sure, but also, like here, there are moments of profound serenity.