I have seen
the ruins of a day’s work—
And know now how an unfinished story
is not like a never-ending look
into the depths of your soul—:
o earth-bound land-lovers,
come see the ocean raging (within thee),
time himself is slow to witness the strength
in the skies fall and honor
the dirt it graces with mercy from above.
The poet argues—lest it be that he tries—
Else, he is no argument for what he loves.
an end of time is a love’s only beginning,
aghast are those starting on empty,
the rejoicing, there, are in fruitful labor;
together we fly, or, die tonight,
green and rose is this heaven.
ready and eager are they now,
those loves in love with today,
curling, like winds, your hair.
I cannot chase it but that I bathe
in this love.