When a world is being born
all men labour at the birth
except the few here and there
who laboured long before.

At last they taste water
out of stones they broke
honey from their bees
that yesterday were wild.

Honour them, but honour more
the early rarer labourers
who let their hunger wander
among ten million minds.

O love, we are not fed
with courage or with bread
Commandeer my hunger
for the borning world.

1965 from Parasites of Heaven