AFTER THE HONEYMOON

It doesn't matter
How sweet is
Your Honeymoon,
How fragrant a Garden
Springs up to surround you
Every step you take. 

When He's let you
Make His Acquaintance
And that Oasis
Has served its purpose,

He points out to you 
A heat-steaming Road
That stretches away
Across an endless desert.
Then He and the Oasis disappear.

After that
It doesn't matter
How many people
Surround you.
You are alone.

It doesn't matter
What you know
Or know how to do.
No one needs that knowledge.
No one can use those skills.

He has drawn His circle 
Of exclusivity around you.
You are His Alone,
But He has disappeared
And even His Voice
Has become inaccessible.

You long
For the soft
Pillow of 
His embrace,

As you lay
Your head on stones
Night after night.

Then, when you
Have endured 
An exponential
Of what you thought
You could ever take,

He claps His Hands.

In a second
The whole world 
Is green again.

 

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