I do not know what face is looking back

I do not know what face is looking back
from a yellow Moon, what eyes are gazing down
from the splayed heaven, what array of stars
is keeping time. I do not know the science

beyond observation, the subtleties of faith,
the vainglory of virtuous ancient orators.
I do not know what hands are holding mine,
what legs are responsible for the movement

of her body. The feet of the trees, or leaves
that fall in a winter breeze, I do not know
the meaning. Yet, she has articulated

the heavens radically, she has devised
a system for the luminaries. I do not know
what love is but I know what I am feeling.