observe, but can you truly without it,
might measured and coming through, emerging
on the other side, where all your aims sit;
like loves of two, true, being, converging—
or wings of fire, breasts spread, converting
breath into light and space into motion;
good eyes eye the silent soul’s devotion
without looking: seeing, feeling, knowing.
so sweet are three that come to be when two
are again true and life, anew, bring out—
like an extra word that brings the herd through
to look and see what this reconciliation is all about:
measuring, just, moves the measure so right,
when sights’ might meet such light leisure and height.