Wednesday, December 11, 2013

my beloved, my garden

Awake, O north wind, and come, O south wind! Blow upon my garden, let its spices flow. Let my beloved come to his garden, and eat its choicest fruits. 

Locked away until the time

that I might open the gate...

hand in hand in love

we find the garden rich with

verdant blossoms, full of fruit.

I am intoxicated by it all.

But before it was enjoyed

it was cultivated. God made the soil,

and it was prepared so that

what I planted in there

grew and thrived with 

love and patience until it was mine

to have and enjoy.

Walled off for only two

the garden is a private place

full of joys that only I

and my beloved may know. 

All is as it should be

by God's design drawn close

we linger there often.

No more in spring's blossom,

but in summer's warm glow...

nights and days of joy among the garden's bounty

And even as autumn comes

winter's chill may soon slow us,

we will tend this garden together

savoring its choicest fruit.

My beloved is my garden and I am hers. 

We have planted,

tended love there over years

of careful toil. And the fruit

is sweeter still as the garden

reaches full measure, never peaking

but always providing a sustaining harvest of love.

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