When studying for British lit or
Remembering my last night’s dream
Or running along the tennis courts it seems
I love this earth too much.
I love the way the hay fields behind
My kitchen window rise and dip into
The sun, how wordsworth writes sonnets
That go bouncing on my tongue,
How a boy I love singings songs
While driving me back home, and at
Home there is a life-giving light.
I love this world with all my might.
But if only I could see these little joys
As little lights that lead to you
But I’d rather love the earth and sky
How small I am, and blind-
When all their greatest splendor
Points to you.
No comments:
Post a Comment