you are tired

Have been a bit remiss in sharing poetry this month. Just found a new-to-me ee cummings selection that is beautiful and makes me wish that I were better at composing music, because this gorgeousness is a piece of music which I would like to conduct with a choir. 

 You are tired, (I think)

 ~e.e. cummings 

You are tired, 
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing; 
And so am I. 

Come with me, & then, 
And we'll leave it far and far away-- 
 (Only you and I, understand!) 

You have played, 
(I think) 
And broke the toys you were fondest of, 
And are a little tired now; 
Tired of things that break, and-- 
Just tired. 
So am I. 

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight, 
And I knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart-- 
Open to me! 
For I will show you places 
Nobody knows, 
And, if you like, 
The perfect places of Sleep. 

Ah, come with me! 
I'll blow you 
that wonderful bubble, the moon, 
I'll sing you the jacinth song 
Of the probable stars; 
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream, 
Until I find the Only Flower, 
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart 
While the moon comes out of the sea.