A longing not of the body

Ice Storm (excerpt) – Jane Kenyon

The most painful longing comes over me.
A longing not of the body …

It could be for beauty –
I mean what Keats was panting after,
for which I love and honor him;
it could be for the promises of God;
or for oblivion, nada; or some condition even more
extreme, which I intuit, but can’t quite name.

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