I can’t remember where I first heard the sonnets of Malcolm Guite. I bought his book Sounding the Seasons earlier this year but decided to wait until the beginning of the church liturgical year before pulling it out to read. This morning over coffee I opened it for the first time.
This is from his The Great O Antiphons series for Advent.
dawn, Easter Morning, over the Salish Sea
O Oriens First light and then first lines along the east To touch and brush a sheen of light on water, As though behind the sky itself they traced The shift and shimmer of another river Flowing unbidden from its hidden source; The Day-Spring, the eternal Prima Vera. Blake saw it too. Dante and Beatrice Are bathing in it now, away upstream . . . So every trace of light begins a grace In me, a beckoning. The smallest gleam Is somehow a beginning and a calling: ‘Sleeper awake, the darkness was a dream For you will see the Dayspring at your waking Beyond your long last line the dawn is breaking.’