If I can't give you anything,
I'll at least hold while you take
It yourself, and such entering
Can be what you need to wake
From the isolation of dreams
Which grip your soul with ideals
Life falls short of. Time unseals
Each formula throughout our schemes
And efforts; through our aspirations,
Which you say I lack, but there's one:
Meeting in those special translations
Where I become the earth below
And you come down like heaven's sun
To share inside all things aglow.
A place for my poems 