Thoughts on the Shape of the Human Body
How can we find? how can we rest? how can
We, being gods, win joy, or peace, being man?
gaunt zanies of a witless Fate,
Who love the unloving and lover hate,
Forget the moment ere the moment
Kiss with blind lips that seek beyond the lips,
Who want, and know not what we want, and cry
crooked mouths for Heaven, and throw it by.
Love's for completeness! No perfection grows
and arm, elbow, and ear, and nose,
And joint, and socket; but unsatisfied
Sprawling desires, shapeless,
Finger with finger wreathes; we love, and gape,
Fantastic shape to mazed fantastic shape,
irregular, perplexed, embossed,
Grotesquely twined, extravagantly lost
By crescive paths and strange
From sanity and from wholeness and from grace.
How can love triumph, how can solace
Where fever turns toward fever, knee toward knee?
Could we but fill to harmony, and dwell
our thought and as perfectible,
Rise disentangled from humanity
Strange whole and new into simplicity,
to a radiant round love, and bear
Unfluctuant passion for some perfect sphere,
Love moon to moon unquestioning,
Like the star Lunisequa, steadfastly
Following the round clear orb of her delight,
through the eternal night!