I am the Garden In me all things live In me nothing is forgotten Here we enter After being done with the Serpent Flamed or in darkness When the Cross enters from below We die, never to be reborn
Over naked ******* and belly Shadows dissolve in milk and manna Transmuted to rainbows of gold In the body of the Magdalena Droplets dance fiery ice Where Power is gained through Entry into the Garden of the Heart Another way then becomes the forgotten
Nothing more entices, no fleshly desire lingers Wisdom is my key to the Gate of Chrysanthemum Purity Where Patience is enthroned at the Fulcrum of two spheres After we’ve climbed ladders of courage Listened to mournful entreaties, tolling gongs Shook hands with Keepers of Freedom
Our giving becomes our taking Separation, the Union The going, a Returning Returning, our resting where the Centre of Silvery Strands is Stillness Born of angels and white doves As Truth cloaks, after paying In sweat and tight purple silences
Few know how the Garden imbues Or how minds of politic dissolved or What a tiny imprint is hidden in the Palm of Goddess-God where the Palm of Blood and Thorns Washed us from the shores of Ancient Khoisan lands into the Moistness of Infinity’s filigree