Now like an arrow you come, sped by an angel,
Tipped with the spirit of wings and pointed with pain—
Only from heaven could fall the dart of your presence
Blinding as the lightning, blown as summer rain.
Herald of heaven you are and the dancing height of wonder,
Visible soul of singing, moving breath of breath …
The dancers of the earth aspire to be winged always.
But you are the dancer of heaven, yearning for death.
How I ache to ease you, reaching with my fingers,
Straining with my heart, through the empty air!
I would take your beauty into my hands and break it
And stand before you breathless and be the perfect slayer.
Must you still in heaven dance with all the angels
And weary of them, leave them and wander down the sky,
Living, living, living, living, living, living,
Yearning and dancing, and no way to die?