Not Ready
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.
Copied from the the book Selected Poems, which you can buy here: