Beautiful Lover

We had our towers and then left them 
beyond the heights as we lay over clovers 
with the world on top 
that hoard of grass, weeds and clovers beneath our skin 
felt our hands unfold like burnt offerings to the sun and sweat 
and our loving found the roots of hope 
the panoramic views of faith in the starry night 
Our loving touches me 
the way clovers should be left in the fields 
and the way the praise of simple things etch our world 
the way the robin in a single flight 
can feat above the white stones 
and I feel 
content 
in the glorious 
and among the things so obvious to the eye 
that they become mysterious to the heart 
and our loving 
brings me the moon when it is dark 
and gives the soul hands to touch gently with 
no elevators needed