LXX: A Note From March

Oh heaven's belfries! How I know they sound!

What surety I have of else is naught.

But stopped have been my ears for years around,

the love of God the only love I've got.

And that's a love that's elsewhere, in the sky,

one seen and never known and never touched.

If this is all I have, why don't I fly

where e'er it is that I might be so clutched?

To fall into that heaven. Say, why not?

What's here wants me to linger anyway?

Except--but what's this inkling that I've got?

If free you are, might not your griefs allay?

And so I woke in March with one misgiving:

that life, it seems, might really be worth living.