The Birth

Where would I be
if there were another in my past as close to me?
What would I have seen
if you had not trained my eyes to perceive
the world, the sky, the words of my own mind?
The fire has been lit;
the clouds and darkness continue to grow.
Yet, I see.
My ignorance unfolds;
the heat is no longer an absence of cold.
Oh, what my world would be
if it were not for thee!
Oh, what fates, what heavens, what wonders
have ordered all:
The structuring, the aging, and the fall,
the collisions between each separate call.
Oh, presence! Oh, harmony!
I was blind and now I have begun to see
Oh, what my world would be
if I did not know what lay beneath.
The reasons and the cures,
of what is true and what is pure,
the uniqueness and the bleakness of all our worlds.
The disfigured hand with the perfect glove,
True connections between visions, between people:
Oh, That is Love!
Oh, This is Birth!
Where would I be now if not for thee?
What lives could have been lived?
What dreams could have been dreamed?
Could another have done what thou hast done unto me?
Oh, what my world would be
if I never would have loved thee