Daily Whitman



To the Garden the World

  To the garden the world anew ascending,
  Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding,
  The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being,
  Curious here behold my resurrection after slumber,
  The revolving cycles in their wide sweep having brought me again,
  Amorous, mature, all beautiful to me, all wondrous,
  My limbs and the quivering fire that ever plays through them, for
      reasons, most wondrous,
  Existing I peer and penetrate still,
  Content with the present, content with the past,
  By my side or back of me Eve following,
  Or in front, and I following her just the same.



Posted on 14/06/2014, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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