One Day In March

And . . . we were together.
For one brief hour the wall was down.
You and I, face to face, lips together, hunger.
What builds must have a finish.
No architect works forever on one building,
Least in his madness he
Believes he makes the perfect temple of God.
Your innocence and searching
I felt but brushed aside.
What was this paradise I found and lost?

For one short span
We were as one.
Deny nothing,
Together we were an island.
The apple's bitter juice
Pulled you off - -
Away;
Like the salt and sanguine of tortured flesh
Pulls hunger-fevered sharks.

The cloud above became a thunderhead.
Its pastel shades fade into a blind blackness and then
A still more blinding white.

The unknowing became the knowing,
The past arose to haunt the future,
I screamed forth one word - - unheard.

Once I saw the flame curl up.
I felt the ember's heat.
So now I can but ask
(Beware,
Let only a gentle hand fan the spark
Or the fire will gut.

Painful is a desire unleashed.)

And pray.
(Softly pour the water,
In all extinguishers are elements
That, if mixed with the wrong flame,
Only add to the heat.)

The wall is solid once more.
Where is the gate?
My eyes have searched, a locksmith made one key.
It lies, if it is to be fond,
Within the garden.
Forgotten.



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