Poem : Be Unto Love…

I finally took time to crack open the enormous collection of e.e. cummings that my husband got me for my birthday (nearly a year ago!) I fell in love with this one; the first line is so convicting, isn’t it?

LXIII by e.e. cummings

be unto love as rain is unto colour; create
me gradually(or as these emerging now
hills invent the air)
breathe simply my each how
my trembling where my still unvisible when. Wait

if i am not heart,because at least i beat
–always think i am gone like a sun which must go
sometimes,to make an earth gladly seem firm for you:
remember(as those pearls more than surround this throat)

i wear your dearest fears beyond their ceaselessness

(nor has a syllable of the heart’s eager dim
enormous language loss or gain from blame or praise)
but many a thought shall die which was not born of dream
while wings welcome the year and trees dance(and i guess

though wish and world go down,one poem yet shall swim