Back to the Garden

Back to the Garden

These are the heart tears, tinged with blood;
my Beloved knows every hidden grief.

I try to be strong for You
but we both know how crippled I am.

Won't You carry me for a ways?
That I might bury my face in Your throat.

That I might be held, body and soul, nearer to You.
O Beloved, stay within my sight - Your pink coat,
            sheer sadra, flowing hair.

Keep glancing over Your shoulder to make sure 
I am there - in earshot of Your handclap.

My heart, Lord, is Yours to range freely, until the day
the whole realm of my being lies under Your chappels.

O child of God, the heart is a mountainous country;
             beautiful valleys to cross.
Your Beloved walks it with you; back to the garden
              from which you came.
                               
                                 (from The Garden of Surrender, 2004)