Denise Levertov

If woman is inconstant, good, I am faithful to ebb and flow, I fall in season and now is a time of ripening.

There is no savor more sweet, more salt than to be glad to be what, woman, and who, myself, I am...

Two girls discover
the secret of Life
in a sudden line of
poetry.

I who don't know the
secret wrote
the line. They
told me

(Through a Third person)
they had found it
but not what it was
not even

what line it was. No doubt
by now, more than a week
later, they had forgotten
the secret,

the line, the name of
the poem. I love them
for finding what
I can't find,

and for Loving me
for the line I wrote,
and for forgetting it
so that

a thousand times, till death
finds them, they may
discover it again, in other
lines

in other
happenings. And for
wanting to know it,
for

assuming there is
such  a secret, yes,
for That
Most of All.