She is there: she hears. At last one breathes after a long time alone, a long time breathless.
One waits for her now in confidence. Mountains move and far away the sea whispers, patient and low, reassuring us we will make it home.
One longs for her shoulder, her breast, the serious eyes which promise we are whole. One feels the song begin in her image and so enters it singing.
On the trail a single bear track in the dawn. I kneel in order to give it to you.
By the pond, mergansers, gliding slowly away. Oh bless me without waiting.
One begs: one accepts their need - the light beyond what the world calls lust - and places it before her. And she fills it: she is here.
Please, lover: all of you. I tremble in my room: what is soft in me hardens, and what is hard, grows soft and pliant.
You are light to me. You are the loveliness beyond form.
Be the moon unto me: and the sun: and every star that ever shined. Be the way forward, beyond paths: the singular moment in which what is one at last remembers it is one.
For you I have only these poor sentences. That you heard me call: that you answered.