In a thousand beatingsIn a moment,
a thousand fleeting beatings of wing,
the ministering angel touches my heart.
At my invitation you pay your call;
your gentle probing steals
what I yearn to give
an accidental harmony
designed into chaos.
What you bring is life.
I am satisfied by your attention,
I suffer no jealousy when you seek another.
We parasite love together.
You dart away without a farewell
and travel on or homeward
as a cloud of promise
for honeyed reward.
When you leave,
no door shuts at your departure.
With you goes an embryo of sweetness
clutched in your embrace
a part of me transported
hitchhiker to the sky.
What you leave is life.
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