We stood facing each other, our bed between us.
Together we said, Now is evening.
Soon will be night.
Who will roll the stone
from the door of the tomb for us?
Let’s make us a basket of bulrushes
daubed with pitch, and climb inside.
You pointed to the headboard and said,
There are the headwaters.
Let me cross over to you.
I pointed to the footboard and said,
There is the abyss.
Let me cross over to you.
And we remembered out loud
how Noah and his family entered the ark.
God sealed them in.
And all flesh died that moves on the earth.
My love, you said, you and I
entered with Noah into the ark.
My love, I said, you and I
died with all flesh that moves on the earth.
And then we lay down eye to eye
like two halves of one animal,
and look, a flame appeared before our faces
and passed between our bodies all the way.
And then we kissed.
All night, the raven flew in search of mud.
All night, the dove flew in search of a branch.
Who knows how many worlds perished?
Who knows how many worlds were born?

 

 

---

Li-Young Lee is the author of several books of poetry, most recently The Invention of the Darling (Norton) and a co-translation (with Yun Wang) of the Dao De Jing.

 

 

Photo by Heather Miller on Unsplash