Let Me Not Lament

Let me not lament
The words that went unwrit,
Unwhispered as between two lovers
In the hushed dawn of a new day,
In the pregnant cumulous of a summer's afternoon,
In evening's anticipation of cresting hours
That rise and fall.

Here: Through the window of time
You might still see me
Passing by and 
Hear: the words of mine
That hung in the air, 
That mixed with the words
You imagined I wrote, 
That I would have written,
Had I not vanished
Like a dream
You remember for only an instant or two
And then were gone forever.

How many would it take?
Were there ink enough and time
I might could make you see what I see,
Perhaps feel what I feel. 
You would not read me though.
Not because of the pain invoked
(For surely there is pain)
But because you could not bear
The magnitude of joy within them.
Your heart would burst
And mine, the same,
Like a rose from its bloom,
Like a butterfly from its cocoon,
Like a newborn babe from its mother's womb.