Single Christian Network

If your eyes were not the color of the moon, of a day full [here, interrupted by the baby waking -- continued about 26hours later ]of a day full of clay, and work, and fire, if even held-in you did not move in agile grace like the air, if you were not an amber week,
not the yellow momentwhen autumn climbs up through the vines;if you were not that bread the fragrant moonkneads, sprinkling its flour across the sky, oh, my dearest, I could not love you so!But when I hold you I hold everything that is --sand, time, the tree of the rain,
everything is alive so that I can be alive:without moving I can see it all:in your life I see everything that lives.