A Honey Thief

Honey thief, marauder, slip in and out of the lily.
Steal the pollen, leave stickiness to pistil and stamen.
Press hidden cries of beauty out of the ordinary.

Filch yourself from the unselved, ravel up
the silver filaments of possibility.
Spacious as the light-year in a photon,

luster the Earth with a blink 
of your instantaneous night.
Antenna scented, little feet dripping 

borrowed sweetness, sober in the crush
of vintner’s art and bee’s craft, come distil
the very nectar of the berry from which you refrain.

O seducer of poems from the things they are about,
yes you, Transparency, do not forget:
you are the imageless and empty lens, flute hollow

before the music gushes through it, star tunnel
where nothing remains but light untangling
itself from what is not there.