Aphids

If ‘you and me’ became a thing,
Then would you be
Content to bring
Your heart unto the table alone,
And share your part in brine and bone
But ask for nothing less from here?

O, I could give you that, I fear,
Too easily; but idols fade
So fast, and love can wither
Like the grass, so I would rather
Live first deprived of glamour,
Shorn of the bloom of summer,
Even though we’re at the height.

The golden beams will glisten;
The apple, it will shimmer,
And we’ll cry out in the heat
And the humidity. But none
Shall falter, none shall take that forward path
So bold, and yet so wandering.

Yes, let us fade, instead of this
Too too ornate temptation; let us take
The greener and the humbler way,
The naked and the day-to-day.
Instead of seizing greedily
Those things which we think make us free,
Like tiny aphids let us strive
And crawl towards a better life.
Although we whisper, let our voice
Carry beneath the general noise
And outlast all this earthly splendour
In cold stone holy, natural grandeur.