Do these sweet winging words condemn their flight?
Had they yet bowed beneath repentant load,
the words could not have been that which they showed.
Even as sharp longing turns toward keener sight,
the lofty thoughts inquire of their right;
by mind's ascent shall will's long climb be slowed?
Do these bright visions shine a guiding light,
or do they lure me off the narrow road?
As now and then, we climbers pause to see
our footprints on that long and spiraled path,
then with redoubled strength renew our climb,
so must the poet pause to do and be,
with eyelids closed to hold their salty bath,
to find the place of penitence in rhyme.
Wow, Elena.
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