If you come running back to me now, <br />Like a tamed deer back from its ventures in the woods, <br />I will love you just as I ever did. <br />See me put down my rifle and lay out my palm <br />With sweet grain for you. If you come close enough, <br />I will only pet you for as long as you stay, <br />And I will not fence you in, though my pastures are green <br />And I would have you in them. <br />Not far from here there is a spring in a rock, <br />Which I will take you to so you can drink, <br />And paths which we might climb together which <br />Go far up from the earth and are brushed by innocent <br />Sunlight. Here, where the air is sonorous there are valley sides <br />That lay rich in alfalfa, and purple cabbage for your tongue, <br />And twists of ivy in rich green draperies hung down from <br />The windows of our deities who we might look upon <br />The great soft blue murals that arc through the effervescing <br />Clouds. There we can listen to the first words the wind brings, <br />The fluxuating temperaments of a golden orchestra, <br />Strumming like fine instruments our vibrating souls, <br />So we can feel one another without moving, <br />If you come running back to me now.<br /><br />Robert Rorabeck<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pastoral-4/
