Norman MacCaig "Of You"

Of You

When the little devil, panic,

begins to grin and jump about

in my heart, in my brain, in my muscles,

I am shown the path I had lost

in the mountainy mist.

I'm writing of you.

When the pain that will kill me

is about to be unbearable,

a cool hand

puts a tablet on my tongue and the pain

dwindles away and vanishes.

I'm writing of you.

There are fires to be suffered,

the blaze of cruelty, the smoulder

of inextinguishable longing, even

the gentle candle flame of peace

that burns too.

I suffer them.  I survive.

I'm writing of you.

--Norman MacCaig