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[personal profile] bardachd
I cannot stammer thunder in your sky
Or flash white phrases there. I have no terse
Exploding passion, and cannot vilify
My dulcet world through flute-holes of a verse,
But gently speak and, gently speaking, prove
The everlastingness in which you move.

No superscription in a cloud need sign
Either my love or hate to show they are
Come from a source more terrible than mine.
And I need bow to no peremptory star:
A finger writes, and there is star - or me,
With love or hate to cloud identify.

And time's inflections cannot alter this
Most gentle truth, that fire and thunderhead
Are momentary metamorphosis
Of the most gentle word ever was said
Into what means not less of gentleness
Being accepting being, and saying Yes.

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