The Song of the Bride

The song of songs, which is my heart,
Let no thief enter, nor the unclean despoil
For I am a pearl of great price
And go down into the Garden of Mother Earth.

I am faithful to her silent need,
Of which she cannot speak, except through me
Yet has been defiled, and has built us a Garden
Alike her first Garden, of lilies blooming in the night.

My veil is ringed with every jewel.
My linens are of purest snow
I am dipped in myrrh and frankincense
And shall be waiting for my groom.

I shall pass among the dead and have not fear.
I will pass by blood and darkened places
Through smoke, light cannot enter in
For I do seek the oil for the lamp.

The watchmen rend my veil,
They defile me
They wish this death to be my marriage bed
But I shall seek the oil for my lamp.

They wish that I would lie upon the carnage in lust
They wish upon the blackened forest to embrace
But I shall seek the sons of mammon for my lamp
And toil for them in meadows other than my own.

I am pale and my senses weak
But shall not cease to labor for another's gain
For I have earned the oil of my lamp
And owe no man nor beast for it.

Behold I am yet fair
My breasts yet heave in desire for the one
Who shall take me under the cedars of Lebanon
Who shall take me upon the bed of Solomon.

For I am yet my bridegroom's desire
I am yet his heart
And fear not the hidden beast in waiting,
And fear not the shadow of his form. 

I am yet the bridegroom's love, braced in gold,
Though I tread upon still bodies in the cold.
The cedars are above us, pounded in gold,
Though none can see the beauty they cannot hold.

I will go unto the Garden, my groom,
To kiss the freshborne fruit upon the vine.
To take the gentle bloom upon my face
And there to be the witness of what is mine.

My love is the rose of Sharon,                                        the lily among the thorns.                                              My love is the Garden, rebuilt again.
In armor, a warrior come back to me
Upon the flesh of my Mother, the Earth.

His left hand shall be under my head,
His right hand will embrace me.
Rise up, dear love, and come to me
For the winter is past, the rain is over and gone.

Let us stand now in clear light
That the enemy be not upon us
Let me light the lamp of life
Let us fill ourselves with desire
For that Garden which was taken from us.

I will leave now and go
Though his hands are upon the lock,
I will go to the fountain of Gardens
To the well of living waters.

For I am a garden enclosed, my spouse,
I am a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
Let the winds blow upon this garden
That the scent of the lilies may flow out.

Behold the light, behold the promise
Given unto my love, and to all men,
That they may come into this Garden
And eat of the flowers therein.

Come to me, oh beloved,
Oh son of Jerusalem, for you are sick in love.
Your beloved is gone, where shall you find her?
I have gone down into the Garden
To feed upon the lilies.

Who shall hear the voice of my beloved?
He shall come leaping upon the mountains,
Skipping upon the hills
For he does see the light of the lamp.

My legs are as lean and strong
As the horses of Pharaoh,
My lips are sweet to taste as honeycomb and milk,
My eyes are like the dove.

Where has his beloved gone? Oh, you
of the valleys, where am I?
I have gone down into the Garden
To the bed of lilies which stain my linens
In golden pollen, as bright as the gold of Solomon.

I feed among the lilies, I taste
Their sweet whiteness where there is no thorn.
I redeem the apple that Eve tastes,
I feed among the lilies to be whole.

He came down into the Garden, to see
The bounty of the valley, to see where I had gone.
His spirit makes him like the cedar chariots
Of Solomon, to reclaim his beloved.

I wait for my beloved, and his desire is mine.
My chest is supple for his hands to press,
My waist is hard and thin,
My member bulge out for his hand to grasp.

I will go up to the tree of lilies
And press my body against its trunk,
For my bridegroom comes to rub his firm body
Against my flesh, while pollen sift down upon us.

The juice of his mouth is like purple wine,
The wetness of his tongue is as holy water
As he presses it into me. It is sweet
As honeycomb, melting into me.

Oh, my love, were you my brother
And I would find you wanting,
I would spread my linen upon you
And bind you with colored jewels that rival sunset.

You shall lie down upon me in sleep
And be not awakened until you please.
The pollen of the lily shall stain us gold
As we lie among the flowers, now at peace.

Who is this that comes out of the wilderness?
What voice is this crying in the wilderness?
I set you as a seal upon my heart,
A seal upon my bridehead.

This love shall conquer what is death
For when the lamp is lit it does not fail
Against the worldly jealousy of life,
Remains alight, and to it as the moth, are drawn.

The darkness comes upon us, though the lamp be lit,
Great waters flood around us,
The mighty offer all they own to enter in,
But what shall touch us here?

Shall we become a wall?
The light that burns shall form a silver palace over us.
Shall we become a door?
The light shall enclose us in panels of silver.

You are a palace and your walls are as towers,
Walls which face new Eden.
The light shines both morning and eve
Like the fire inside me as you enter in.

We who dwell in these Gardens,
Happy bridegroom at his bride,
Come, see the light of this lamp
Which is but for the finding, for those who seek.