A Borrowed Bud

 

You grew within me
a voice
from the garden’s unconscious
that crept into my soul

You sprouted
in an unfamiliar form
that, in the fever of words,
took root

You blossomed
in the color of nameless flowers
with a scent
that placed the memory of your embrace
into my breath

And in the end
you remained
in an autumn
made of the silence of bare branches

You wept in my eyes
when
pain
cried out—
from souls that had loved,
yet
like leaves
at the gesture of a sharp wind
fell to the ground

You cried out within me
with words
born of poison
in the grip of a captivity
that denies the garden
its light

Again
you gave the promise of becoming
so that I might not
like a leaf
that has lost its season
come to rest
in the earth

You grew within me
you blossomed
you wept
and you smiled

so that I might carry life
from your unconscious
borrowed
within me