'...taking...'

I see these notions

Grown full and formed

Formed of quiet,

Formed of calm,

Formed of torrid and terse.

Opened at the ending

And ended at the daring.

Booming in and onto

The copse of idea

Grown strong and stout

From then to next.

It becomes blatant in the body

To remain coveted

Covered, coiled.

This pendulum of self

Tick tocking ever diligently

The to and fro of which

Descends never

On any one spot worth trusting.

To be moss-grown is unworthy

This lustre, this love,

This life-

Be mine for the taking

And mine for the giving.