Garden Of Vision

IN the red-white garden of my vision

A myriad owers glow:

Each is
red with thy heavenly mission,

Row on burning row.

Thou hast blown thy Spirits miracle-breath

On their ivory seeds:

Now they blossom in the valley of death,

Dawn-winged dewy beads.

When thy zephyr from some luminous deep

Flows with rings of light,

Their soft tresses in dream-woven sleep

Murmur in the night.

And some cadenced footfalls wandering they hear

In the silver mist,

Snow-foamed ripples of a moon-edged mere,

Gold and amethyst.

O symbols of His jewelled revery

Burning myriad-hued

On my diamond altar, a prophecy

Of His solitude!

Page-42