Monday, August 23, 2010

Come to Me

Come to me my child, my lost babe,
Heart of my Self, lost ... abandoned,
left by the roadside as I headed off
for the glittering city on the hill.

Come to me, my darling infant,
I'll wrap you in soft, warm fleece,
Suckle you with the honeyed milk
I fed to the gods in the temple of gold.

Come to me, gift of my spirit,
Let me touch you with the tenderness
of Psyche's feather that brushed away
the cobwebs of my long, restless sleep.

Come to me my Beauty, my jewel
Your place is set -- the candles lit,
Flowers scattered across a bright cloth,
Celebrating your return, marking my joy.

Come to me, my beloved,
I've cleared the branches and boulders
Along this unused path.
Please come back.


  1. Reading your poem is like listening to a chant. Everything quiets.

  2. oh my. I am breathing Deeply. into the quiet.

    You make me think of Rumi who also does this to me.

  3. Thanks to both of you! It was a powerful moment and to be mentioned on the same page as Rumi is an honor beyond comprehension.