To tame a wild hare at sunrise,
to catch a star
as it shoots across the sky
or stop a tornado
by grabbing hold of its eye.
Yearning of heart
doesn’t hold it still.
Ah, but to love it
and quiet it’s will,
would be to dance with the wind
and make love to the moon,
inhale the flowers,
relish honey from a spoon.
To lay one’s head,
but to rest
in a lap
warm and secure,
cradled in love
forever to endure