Eden

Perhaps is was a dream Perhaps it was my mind soaring All alone, as I prune the garden Wind colliding, sparrows whispering Ravens wooing Echoes of beasts’ bleating The ceaseless stream screaming As the sunset settled at the center Of the sacred tree Armies of joy escaping from nipple of my thoughts For the apple is sumptuous In the region of my dreams I dreamt that I dreamt Gazing at the flowers whose beauty was azure in nature The jasmine trees so enthralled and absorbing The oak trees so rapt A holy war stood still in the garden I wept, I wept, and I wept Gabriel was on errand, Lucifer was asleep Suddenly, the oak began to wither Only the jasmine survive It was actually a dream I had at 3.45am in Eden awoh awoh