Manna

To me, you are all things That power of words alone cannot convey; Mere letters cannot form the thought I hold, No sentence tell the heart what it should say. There is no volume with your name gilt-stamped, No seal with your initials deeply etched, No mystery play wherein your life, enacted Reveals the wondrous times; the wretched. Obscure, you rule my days with your indifference; One detail of your life, one day of mine; On shared glance, one indistinct gesture Is manna for my whole lifetime.