You Are Worth the World to All the Words That Move In You

If you can parse
These lines, they wish
To bring you balm,
A gift with pith,

The gists of which
Are your own words,
The ones you know,
All these small birds

That sing at dawn,
Back of closed eyes,
In whole notes, hymns,
Rounds. You’re our sky,

Our dome, our vault,
Our home. We mean,
You mean the world
For what we mean.