Lifting
How could I lift my thought above degree
as lifting it were not of love's esprit.
I lift in seeming, only find reprieve
of lifting from the heart, true faith's own fee.
I lift from timing's core, and then find thee
so lifted ~ that I love you more than be.
As if some being of my sense weren't me
I lift in vague disorder, wondering ~
Why do I lift thy soul ~ accompany
that I might live with thee, eternally!
Copyright © Paula Larson | Year Posted 2006
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