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Here there are not tears enough to tell you
All the love I have within my heart,
Plainly to proclaim my love before you,
Put with simple grace and little art.
Yet I must try, for love ought not be hidden,
Veiled for fear of nakedness if known,
Afraid to enter silences unbidden
Lest it should have to cross the stage alone.
Even so, love needs the wings of words:
No truth is not transfigured by expression.
The heart of love, like those of captured birds,
Interred too long succumbs to its depression.
Nor are words enough, for love is more
Elusive than a verbal net can hold,
Singing like a sea across my shore,
Dancing back, white fold on endless fold.
All I am and have I give to you,
Yet love is more, and more I cannot do.
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