First Time

What profitable poverty,

Does yearning work with,

To make such beauty true?

That I may drop all, to find you...

What force of fate,

Whips wrinkled the hills,

To dance up and down, the days,

For you, in daffodils...

Continuous as the stars,

The root of the root,

Exceeds skies, and snaps sound,

To outrun every love song...

Let’s meet again,

For the first time...

©Alison Zacharias 2011