If I could spin
I would spin a mist
of silk floating free
to enclose the moment.
If I could weave
the world would turn
from my tapestry and weep.
If I could sing
the song would lift
from the marrow of my limbs
soundless and eternal.
If I could dance
the soft velvet of the night
would flow forever.
With fingertips together
peep into praying palms
there’s the spinning and the weaving
and the singing and the dancing
and the kissing and the loving
and the joy of holding you.
There’s the sheer exhilaration
and tremendousness of living
and the passion and the tenderness
which tightens round the chest.
I can only shake my hea
in laughing wonder
and say. “Thank you.”