climb the stair

 

Turn from that road’s beguiling ease; return

to your hunger’s turret. Enter, climb the stair

chill with disuse, where the croaking toad of time

regards from shimmering eyes your slow ascent

and the drip, drip, of darkness glimmers on the stone

to show you how your longing waits alone.

What alchemy shines from under that shut door,

spinning out gold from the hollow of the heart?

 

 

Enter the turret of your love, and lie

close in the arms of the sea; let in new suns

that beat and echo in the mind like sounds

risen from sunken cities lost to fear;

let in the light that answers your desire

awakening at midnight with the fire,

until its magic burns the wavering sea

and flames caress the windows of your tower.

Denise Levertov, The Sea’s Wash In The Hollow Of The Heart