I shall not listen now
To the old song of my neediness,
That croaks along, slightly off-key.
There is so much better music:
Birdsong,
Grass-hush,
The merriment of water,
The thousand whispers of the wind,
The beat of human hearts,
Syncopated laughter,
Susurrating leaves
The cold melody of moonlight.
But beneath
Even these
There sounds
A love song
So piercing
It breaks my heart
For all eternity:
That heartbreak that is gladder
Than the fiercest joy,
And holds all things entire.
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