I Want Only This. Poem by Jette Blackstone

What you see when you look:
The moon and the sun
along the same line
when fire and frost
are one,

when autumn tips
on toes of summer
and winter pulls her across…

This is the way I feel with you.
When you confine me in your arms
and our forms are trammeled by convention,
breathing in the same twilight space.

Yet we never meet as souls.

You know this too.

For you told me you never believed in magic.
They say that opposites are magnetic
and I feel movement in the fires within us.
But our words turn feelings into ashes.
And there we die together in a pile.

Oh how I wish I could reap the rewards
of the Harvest Moon.
I see others walking in this place, this time,
hands sewn onto the other, a single cloak.
Oh how I wish you knew me, like a seed knows
it's soil! Oh how I wish you loved me,
like the lovers living next door.
I hear their cries of ecstasy, like the falcons roosting in our elm,

and I wish for wings to take me there.