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Because He loves Her
We will pry and see if she is fair
What difference is on her Face
From Features others wear.

It will not harm her magic pace
That we so far behind—
Her Distances propitiate
As Forests touch the Wind

Not hoping for his notice vast
But nearer to adore
’Tis Glory’s far sufficiency
That makes our trying poor.

We think of prayer
while making love,
Meditating on the celestial.
Our house is a temple,
a sacred place
where I burn incense,
chant, sing, and dance
With my beloved,
Our souls offering our best,

Worshiping
like
mad priests.