The clocks are set apart
From what nature is.
Nature belongs to the clock,
Not herself: Birds sing in the cold.
The loveliest clock is a heart
Almost stopped by a kiss
Ages ago upon a rock
Before the lover and the world were old.
Our world hinges on a rhyme.
Everything resolves in time.
Nothing belongs to itself.
Time, time, time is the elf.
Time makes the distances
And the spaces, the essences
Of all colors, thoughts, and things.
Seeing is never enough;
My darling in the dark talks and sings
Of what is enough: love.
