A Garden Locked

Perhaps the great and precious are lonely
Because they have understood togetherness.
More, they have seen gracious possibility
Dashed against the rocks of their hard souls.

For I have found the one my soul loves,
And I will watch her run from me in the end.
How could I restrain her–trap her to myself–
The eventual cause of such sorrow and trials?

The prophetess dreams of which she knows not,
Though we have our self-averse suspicions.
Better for her to flee from her unwilling tormentor,
Though neither yet know what she might endure.

We may believe ourselves heroic in self-sacrifice;
The truth is much closer to melancholic resignation.
But even now, I self-prostrate in humility and patience,
Praying that Eve-unspoiled could love a fallen Adam.