I’m not ready to die just yet.
I’ll keep pushing this body past its years.
God will forgive me if I covet yours
for a little longer
if I offer up my desire
to all that suffers.
God tastes the tenor of my intent
and why I spread my fingers
over your yielding turns.
Excerpts From Toward the poem (starting points) by Octavio Paz:
The poem creates a loving order. I foresee a sun-man and a moon-woman, he free of his power, she of her slavery, and implacable loves streaking through black space. Everything must yield to those incandescent eagles.