You love me and so I am a poet.
My present form – that’s the image of your loving.
The sky, the wind, the morning light
the evening star of the parting day
the scarlet sun of the east –
they all caress me with the warmth of intimacy
and love me because you love me.
My own self lay enwrapped in your love
your sudden advent heralded a new hope for me.
You steal into my presence
and play a melody upon my lance
transmuted into a flute,
all the ceremony of my worship
is the oblation for your soul.
My verses of triumph
are the garlands, all for you.
My present form –
that’s the image of your loving.
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