The Song of Songs

The song of songs, which is my voice                                               The patient shall hear, the silent listen,

For I am a still song amid the roar,

I am the bridegroom of Mother Earth.

I am manservant to her silent need,

Of which she is bound in the cleft of the rock

For despoilers have come and taken her bounty,

But do not find the Garden where she dwell.

I will come to you, my love, my cedar.

Thou art comely in linens,

Thou art dipped in ancient spices,

That of myrrh and frankincense

And lie in waiting, that this bridegroom come.

For the sun has looked upon me in my days of youth,

It has burnished my face and strengthened  me,

Yet the spawn of my Mother's race have raised against me,

They have kept me from wholeness.

They have set me keeper of their vineyards,

So mine own vineyard I could not keep.

I have made their flocks to rest at noon,

I have fed the kids beside their shepherds' tents

And my own flocks have languished.

They have run masterless over barren lands,

They have become prey to the predators,

And hide within the caves of distant hills.

I have been cast out of darkness,

By the mountains, and by these hills I have dwelt.

Though great increase have I made of their sheep and of their goats

That they be rich as lords of Solomon, 

And they have taken the fruit of my love.

They have mixed blood and musk.

These despoilers pour upon her fields

To grow a stolen bounty to feed themselves,

And have taken from her everything.

The light does not enter this dark place,

The smoke rises from the meadow of harsh death,

The death which they wish

To be her marriage bed.

For the watchman has rent her veil.

He has defiled her

When she but sought her love in the night,

Unarmed, and helpless, and innocent.

Yet I am the seeker of the light.

I am the true watchman for the brides who wait.

They are as one bride born into the wilderness

Who go in danger, though they have no fear.

I shall seek them out,

Shall seek the despoiler of their beauty,

For blood is their water, and flesh their feast.

And they are forced to lie upon this carnage in lust,

And embrace upon the blackened forest.

My love is pale, her senses weak,

Who has done this? I shall find them,

I shall draw a sword from my side

For every man has his sword upon his thigh,

Because of danger in the night.

I shall find you, oh my heart's desire.

I shall mend your veil, which hath been rent,

For I builded up a temple braced in cedar

And have rafters of fir.

For you are yet this bridegroom's desire,

You are yet my heart.

You are yet this bridegroom's love, braced in gold

Comely on your bower of soft down.

I am the rose of Sharon, the lily among the thorns,

I am the garden, despoiled, yet come back

In armor, as a warrior come back

To reclaim what is his

Upon the flesh of my Mother, of Earth.

Where are you, oh beloved?

Oh daughter of ancient lands, I am sick in love,

For my beloved is gone, where shall I find her?

My beloved has gone down into the Garden

To feed upon the lilies.

Oh you of the valley, where is she?

She has gone down into the Garden

To the bed of lilies, which stain her white linens

In golden pollen, like the linens of kings.

She feedeth among the lilies, she tastes

Their sweet whiteness to become whole

From the apple that Eve tasted.

She feeds among the lilies of the Garden, to be whole.

Where is she that looketh forth as the morning?

Where has she gone, who is the greatest pearl?

I shall go down into the Garden, the Garden of the Lilies,

The fountain of Gardens, to the well of living waters.

I have withdrawn myself, and am gone.

I have risen now, and will go,
I will go down into the valley of the lilies,

The lilies that shine forth in the night.

Behold this Garden, behold the Eden promise

Called back now from when it was lost,

Found once again. And she has gone

To feed upon the lilies of that place.

She has revealed her true self there,

She has formed as spirit in shining flash,

A form of manly loveliness,

A silvery beauty of comeliness.

And I will hear the voice of my beloved.

I will come leaping upon the mountains,

Skipping upon the hills,

For I do see the burning of the lamp.

It is the lamp of clarity that illumines

The lily among the briers, the heart's desire

As great bronze gods in gilded temples,

Shining in reflected lamplight and shadow,

Their naked forms in perfect symmetry.

My love's head is as the finest ivory, his hair

Is raven, his eyes are the eyes

Of stars, blue in the night.

His lips are of lilies, spread upon a field, 

His belly stiff and smooth as stone.

His legs are strong as oak

Set upon sockets of stone.

His face as burnished copper, bearded in waves,

This is my beloved, this is my source.

The taste of his mouth is like bourbon, 

It goes down in heat, causing the mouth to speak.

Come, my beloved, we go to the Garden together,

We go now to see if it would'st flourish.

Love does not understand death.

Jealousy is the face of death.

It is as cruel as the grave.

We will not seek it there, my bridegroom. 

Water cannot quench this passion,

Floods cannot drown it,

It is that of the light,

It is that of the lily which blooms.

Will you be a wall?

I will build a palace of silver over you.

Will you be a door?

I will enclose you with panels of silver.

How beautiful is the muscle of your legs,

To run my tongue along the sinew of your thigh,

To wet your member with the heat of my mouth,

That swells in hardness as the cedars of Lebanon.

I go to my beloved, and his desire is mine.

I rub upon his member and spend myself,

He spends himself upon my belly.

I gather this holy water in my hand.

I take it into my mouth and press my lips upon him.

It flows into his mouth from me,

As sweet as honey comb. 

He moans for its taste as it melts into us,

And by this act we shall be one.

The heat of your mouth is a burning fire

As I let myself into you. 

My loins ache as I arch my back

While pollen sift down upon us from the lily tree.

You shall enter me as searing flesh,

Moving into me where my source lay hidden,

Now gasping under the rod of consummation

That fill me in a deepness of strength.

You shall lie down upon me in sleep

And not be awakened until you please.

The pollen of the lily shall stain us gold

As we lie among the flowers, now at peace.

This love does not know what is death,

For when the lamp is lit it does not fail,

Though the sun may go out

This light will not go out.

Though darkness comes upon us, the lamp be lit.

We shall see great waters flood around us,

We shall see great fires consume what is around us,

But what shall touch us here?

You shall place my rod into your being

And we shall move as one, joined as one

In this moment when I fill you,

And am filled with you, in me.

We shall join in a palace of every flower,

Whose walls face New Eden

In a light that does not extinguish

In the morning, nor the night,

And we need never rise from where we are.

We who dwell in the garden of the lilies

Happy bridegroom at his bride,

They are formed as one man thing,

Where wholeness replace the gender of their forms.

They live in a palace and its walls are as towers.

Its walls faced New Eden.

There is light in the morning, and eve.

Would'st thou join with them,

Oh beloved souls of ages?

Let us dwell in these gardens,

My companions, hear this voice,

Uncover the golden light of your lamp,

Make haste, my beloved grooms,

And come to this hidden, sweet home.