Poetry

If tonight I could grab
the golden moon from the sky
and if a crown of stars
could radiate about you,
you might have been holy.

If I could put the fiery sun
in your glance and could grab
the scorching lighting
in each tear of you that drops,
could grab stars from the sky
and make a necklace from them,
could hang it around your neck
you might have been a goddess

but now only empty words remain
to give to you as a gift
and the knowledge
that your love goes through all things
and I read God-fearing
in your humanity.