In the Garden of St. Iven

In the beginning,

Aphrodite held my eyes in her palms 

and showed me the sight of you.

Upon my life’s wakening,

my imaginings—my blind visions—

led me in my search for you. 

And since that day of wakening,

I’ve walked the deserts nearly 40 times 

and waded through every sea.

Every tear of mine—

of madness or despair—

has been shed for you. 

I weep and lust drips from my eyes. 

I’m left with a guiltless love, 

with childish sincerity.

And I ask, “Has there been a woman fairer? 

Has the earth ever been so in love 

so as to make such a beauty?”

Further I lament, “I’m in love, dear father, 

With she born from your lea, 

from your bed of grass and roses.”

As the flowers wilt,

The world weeps with me, 

and life dies with the absence of my love. 

Speak to me, 

in any form or tongue.

Come to me, and meet my eyes.