Hear me read the poem:
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Vest in me your life,
as I in you,
All we are and have, and ever will.
Love must make the choice, for good or ill,
Ever choosing blindly what we do.
Nor can we reason such a choice, or view
The consequence and total up the bill.
In all that matters most, we wait until
No choice remains but what we know is true.
Embrace me, then, on this day of love,
'Ere we turn again to restless days
Somnambulant, redundant, querulous,
Days that pass but never salient prove,
As now we can find joy beneath the maze,
Years rich with the refrain that we are
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon