Never to lose my wonder but to rise
On such small steps as night might give way to:
My turning interplanetary here.
By this, I mean that it is only night
On one side of the world, that it be light
On the other, that I greet the dawn
My counterpart in China writes his poem
At midnight, poem he’s waited for all day
But only darkness brings him to his room
Where he can see such brightness as I hold
Lightly in my fist so it can expire.
Right now I’m only a space where God writes.
I say “God”—I mean imagination.
If there’s a difference, turning like this earth
Will show me, won’t you, earth. You will? Right now—