Shadow Garden

Meet me in the shadow garden

when the last yellow window falls asleep.

Tiptoe past the lilac

and the nameless flowers of the night.

Wear a long rustling dress

let your hair loose

come barefoot.

But don’t bring your words with you,

not even a greeting.

Words are what people make

when they try to understand one another.

We know better than to talk

when the night is quiet

and the world is dark.

Come here in this windy nook

which midnight has forgotten.

Remember what you were

before things had names.

The longing that you bring

is the distant cry

of an unseen bird.

And our embrace

is the alchemy of matter

transcending its place.