Your being over there tonight.
I fetched you back with words, here you are,all things are true and a waiting
for trueness.
The beanstalk climbs
at our window: think
who's growing up near us and
watches it.
God, so we've read, is
one part and a second, dispersed:
in the death
of all who've been reaped
he grows whole.
Our gaze
leads us there,
it's this
half
we deal with.
John Felstiner trans.
