All is New (Alles is nieuw, 2005)

What was about to happen was already there,
precisely spelt by a beaker which shattered,
shards which bear the prints of thumbs,
the shivered script of pin-sharp twigs.

It isn’t a tale we have made but what
was here and is here in the traces of ditches
and postholes and log-fires long gone cold.
It needed finding, that was all: someone to look

it over and say what is it, this is it
and there it was, a house with a hearth, people
being themselves as ever and forever
the first time here and now as they sit

with warm hands which clasp a beaker
by the fire and they talk and the tick-tick of rain
is a circle of sound and nothing matters,
nor the night – the unseen clouds, the silence

of all outside that is asleep or awaiting the day
are the roof and the walls around the roof and the corners
of this house that is already old but new
being found again in this now.