Wrapped in light

I’d give you the jewels of Klimt
if I thought it would help
banish the blues
and I’d take the sweet, low sounds
the ground makes in early spring
to make you smile,
but all I can do
is be here, listening, watching
– too far to be any help
but so close by sheer will,
you’re here too,
our energy mixing like spilled light
and the pulse is electric,
soothing and pure.

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