If I Were a Poet

A minute of heaven was given to me
in the arms of a lover at the foot of the sky.
I remember how we climbed up the legs of God
so high that we could touch
the edge of His smile.

At the meeting place of earth and air
we paused for that minute, washed by
a glow from a million homes
of those who had stayed on the ground.
We sat, caught up in the music of silence,
the trembling forest outlined in moonlight,
the stillness of everything moving,
moving so slowly that it became the heartbeat of time.