Poem XXXVIII

When I walk behind you down the street
And human traffic flows around us
I feel moored to you
As an ancient sailor to the North Star.
You are the fixed point of all my hopes
You walk ahead of me and I wonder
If I follow perfection, or find perfect
What draws me onward.
I live for these moments
When my private admiration
Alights on your beauty undisturbed.
I know then I've fallen victium
To the same mute awe
That brought men to their knees
Before the sun, the stars,
And the rivers that flowed before them.