Walking off the edge of the garden would I admire
The flowers do thorny sprout
Only in memory of someone passed away
Would I touch the petals and forbid the crowd
To enter the secret place where I keep the mirror
Arrayed on the path of the garden with lilies
Do I let those people alight
And with them Would I arouse a reflection of a needle
Extending to infinity In the mirror
And through which I had to pass
On to the other end of the paradise
Where dust is hardly borne off the earth
And I wipe my feet to fall with night
Into slumber walk of haloed dream
From this end of the garden to their end
Their shadows casting a halo in the mirror round.
Do I whisper a solemn sound
I am coming to you my people
with a heartening wound.
- Advertisement -
