�

Why shouldn't I possess a private eagerness,

an anticipation all of my own,

Such that it crams every corner of my soul.

And I had sworn I would never again open the door

Of my senses to any outward appeal.

�

But I have not kept that vow

and this dismays me.

Even though I again have tasted

The tangible loveliness of life,

Seen colours as pristine as the

beginning of life and love.

�

Passion or compassion? I can't tell.

My heart and soul rushed to take it in.

But you have given me a gift,

And in that giving you have honoured me.

�

I have found the grace, the sense of worth.

And these new things have wiped away the hurt.