[poem] Only This

[kaberett]

And if the Earth should be too great a gift
(too inconvenient, too delicate, too messy)
then I will give my self to you instead
(for all the same might well be said of me).
I conceive myself in motion. I believe
myself most wholly in these momentary
scraps of grace; perhaps what scares me most
is to be still. The closest, I suspect, that I will come
is falling into orbit around your indifferent sun.

Comments

[cosmolinguist]

Ooh, this gives me shivers.

[kaberett]

It is the poem that got me into Neruda and I adore it!