The perfect stillness of a simple morning

The perfect stillness of a simple morning
without her, the changing hues are deepening
in the heavens. She moves from the evening
through the Sun, she is the blessed learning

of a lover's orbit. See the clouds adorning
her surface like clothing, see the bending
rays, refracted light. I am the maddening
poet without her love, the lamp that's burning

oil for another. The brilliant lustre
of her wet eyes, the prayers above the altar,
the mutterings of saints. She is the master

of my heart and being, the resplendent nectar
of beautiful flowers. The Earth's bright sister
traversing the nothing between the stars.