Reason, my sweet,
I've woken to find you
warming my bed once again.
Again, every moment
seems to have its place,
and the arc of a poet's life
once again seems in the
proper shape.
I know I won't have gotten far
before you're off again,
having your men, I suppose,
but, for these moments of Harmony,
when the hounds in my
lower chambers seem to be
quelled, or else off my trail;
when I am finally certain
my breathing is in time with Destiny;
when love of myself is enough,
and I am still enough to hear
the Melody and match the key;
thank you.
I will carry them with me always.