Three paces down the shore, low sounds the lute,
The better that my longing you may know;
I’m not asking you to come,
But --- can’t you go?

Three words, “I love you,” and the whole is said ---
The greatness of it throbs from sun to sun;
I’m not asking you to walk,
But --- can’t you run?

Three paces in the moonlight's glow I stand,
And here within the twilight beats my heart.
I’m not asking you to finish,
But --- to start.



 = Heather C. Liston