by Robert Bly
b. 1926 Minnesota
Samson, grinding bread for widows and orphans, Forgets he is wronged, and the answers The Philistines wrangled out of him go back Into the lion. The bitter and the sweet marry. He himself wronged the lion. Now the wheat Caresses the wind with its wifely tail; the donkey Runs in the long grass; and having glimpsed heaven, The fox's body saunters the tawny earth. 2 After death the soul returns to drinking milk And honey in its sparse home. Broken lintels Rejoin the sunshine gates, and bees sing In the sour meat. Once more in the cradle his Hair grows long and golden; Delilah's scissors Turn back into two tiny and playful swords. Samson, no longer haunted by sunset and shadows, Sinks down in the eastern ocean and is born.
Robin's Nest 