To the Fire, by W.S. Merwin
How long have I been
looking into you
staring through you into
the other side
there is no way of telling
it appears to have continued
from an age of its own
this scrutiny of the bright
veil rising and the lit
corridors of the embers
in which I see the days
beyond touch beyond reach
beyond all understanding
beyond their faces
beneath your dangerous wings
you at whose touch
everything changes
you who never change
there in you one at a time
are the unknown days
turning the corners
the unseen past
the unrecognized present
familiar but already
beyond identity
expressions without selves
appearing finally within you
of whom the light is made
