If I prayed for love in every languageit would sound the same
to the one whose name
I call in vain.
And if one day he did answer me,
I'd gaze into the sun-painted face
of the fairy king.
Then off we'd fly,
to his great empire,
where the air is perfumed with petrichor;
There I'd reside,
in my new home of soil and sky;
and be crowned Queen of the Trees,
Of nightingales, ant hills, and ivy-tangled trails—
and there he would love me,
'til my mortal body did bind
with the grass and the leaves,
and all living things;
My gift of flesh to fertilize
His lush kingdom;
So that when he'd look upon it, he would look upon me—
and love everything.