Even if I don’t see it again – nor ever feel it
I know it is – and that if once it hailed me
it ever does –
And so it is myself I want to turn in that direction
not as towards a place, but it was a tilting
within myself,
as one turns a mirror to flash the light to where
it isn’t – I was blinded like that – and swam
in what shone at me
only able to endure it by being no one and so
specifically myself I thought I’d die
from being loved like that.
--Mary Howe
Image source: Fra Angelico, Annunciation
Poem source
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