Someone is always falling in love with you:
men and women, infants and children,
octogenarians and adolescents.
A tenant of heaven-haven on the pearly doorstep
hopes you will wave your hand in passing.
Where you stood just now a white bird
has flown into a ponderosa pine
and a black bee hovers in a bush of yellow flowers.
People would like to discuss you, but hold back.
Mystery is a fragile substance, too easy to tear.
Several persons, however, have noticed that you are followed
not by the usual shadow but by a shaft of sunlight.
Even on a day of fog or light rain.
Even after sunset.
When you are not present, you still walk quietly
through our minds, and we tell ourselves little stories
or small poems about you, like this one.
When a bird sings, we listen carefully
hoping your name will be mentioned.
(Living on Fire: A Collection of Poems)
men and women, infants and children,
octogenarians and adolescents.
A tenant of heaven-haven on the pearly doorstep
hopes you will wave your hand in passing.
Where you stood just now a white bird
has flown into a ponderosa pine
and a black bee hovers in a bush of yellow flowers.
People would like to discuss you, but hold back.
Mystery is a fragile substance, too easy to tear.
Several persons, however, have noticed that you are followed
not by the usual shadow but by a shaft of sunlight.
Even on a day of fog or light rain.
Even after sunset.
When you are not present, you still walk quietly
through our minds, and we tell ourselves little stories
or small poems about you, like this one.
When a bird sings, we listen carefully
hoping your name will be mentioned.
(Living on Fire: A Collection of Poems)
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