Your Sunday Poem for a Beatuful May Day

This by Rita Dove, from "Mother Love." Dove is a Pulitizer Prize winner, novelist and 1993-95 U.S. Poet Laureate. 

Lamentations

Throw open the shutters
to your darkened residences:
can you hear the pipes playing,
their hunger shaking the olive branches?
To hear them sighing and not answer
is to deny this world, descend rung
by rung into no loss and no desire.
Listen: empty yet full, silken
air and brute tongue,
they are saying:
To refuse to be born is one thing --
but once you are here,
you'd do well to stop crying
and suck the good milk in.