• Perhaps you want a moment for reflection
    Or a glimpse of someone's struggles with perfection.
    Even greyhounds need a clear, still light
    To bring them to the precipice of night.
    Rest here, then, where joys and sorrows blend;
    Yearning needs no goal and has no end.

    Be like a bell, and let me be your tongue:
    Your thoughts will toll when I've your passions rung.

    Nor can I know what words will strike your ears:
    In poems one's life transfigures what one hears.
    Clear words contain a silence still as glass,
    Horizons as remote as distant brass,
    Old meanings darting luminous in pools
    Like light caught in the blaze of well-cut jewels.
    All this exists like sound without a bell;
    So be its instrument, and listen well.

    Give my poems the courtesy of space;
    Often they need room to show their grace.
    Reason works quite wonderfully by day;
    Darkness must be grasped another way.
    On you the moon, with muted, mirrored beams,
    Now casts its lace of memories and dreams.