St. Paul, MN USA
Shall I pick out the moonbeams
From behind soft clouds, speckled with rain
Knowing that one of them has shone upon you?
Shall I ask the wind, stop here;
Let me smell the scent that's borne on you
To see if it is redolent of the one I love?
Shall I ask the crickets and the grey owl
If, with their hypnotic serenade,
They've perhaps sung you to sleep?
Shall I ask the dew- and its brother, the grass-
That's been trodden upon by your feet
How sweet and how light was your step?
I want that sunbeam for myself, the one
That's shining now upon your hair;
I want to keep it so it lights my way
But I shall ask the fates if they would,
in their wisdom and grace, grant me a wish,
we would lay an equal claim, always, to the other's heart.
August 24, 1999