Robert Bly

Waiting for Night to Come

How much I long for the night to come
Again — I am restless all afternoon —
And the huge stars to appear
All over the heavens!...The black spaces between stars... 
And the blue to fade away.

I worked on poems with my back to the window, 
Waiting for the darkness that I remember 
Noticing from my cradle.
When I step over and open the door, I am
A salmon slipping over the gravel into the ocean.

One star stands alone in the western darkness: 
Arcturus. Caught in their love, the Arabs called it 
The Keeper of Heaven. I think
It was in the womb that I received
The thirst for the dark heavens.