Taking Vows,
by Ysabeault d’Valar-Alba

To open up
an interval
between
childhood
and death,

Where
work
and play
are again
one.

Now
in the service
of world
as of self.

Nor are
love and desire
antimonies
either

but

mutual resources
out of which
our living flows.

Then let me find,
then let me be
one
of those
whose pleasure it is
to be
a healer,
an artisan.

Each
inspiring the other.

We
will keep
loving company
for this
interval.

[I wrote this originally in 1989 for a Forester whose skin smelled like warm pine and a fall of sunshine and honey, then re-wrote some of it for the World Poetry Competition last year – hope you enjoy.]