Mother, Among the Dustbins

Stevie Smith

 Next Poem          

Mother, among the dustbins and the manure
I feel the measure of my humanity, an allure
As of the presence of God, I am sure

In the dustbins, in the manure, in the cat at play,
Is the presence of God, in a sure way
He moves there. Mother, what do you say?

I too have felt the presence of God in the broom
I hold, in the cobwebs in the room,
But most of all in the silence of the tomb.

Ah! but that thought that informs the hope of our kind
Is but an empty thing, what lies behind? --
Naught but the vanity of a protesting mind

That would not die. This is the thought that bounces
Within a conceited head and trounces
Inquiry. Man is most frivolous when he pronounces.

Well Mother, I shall continue to think as I do,
And I think you would be wise to do so too,
Can you question the folly of man in the creation of God?
Who are you?

Next Poem 

 Back to Stevie Smith

To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.

  • thaddeusluker43

    Wow, this brings back memories. I remember readin' this back in school. That bit about feeling the presence of God in the dustbins and manure sure struck a chord with me. Ain't it funny how we can sense divinity in even the muckiest of things? But that part bout "the vanity of a protesting mind" confuses me a bit. Isn't it saying that questioning is useless? What do y'all think?