Are you alive?

higher than my arms reach,you have mounted.O silver,higher than my arms reachyou front us with great mass;no flower ever openedso staunch a white leaf,no flower ever parted silverfrom such rare silver;O white pear,your flower-tufts,thick on the branch,bring summer and ripe fruitsin their purple hearts.

what bitter thing is this?what shaft, tearing my heart?what scar, what light, what firesearing my eye-balls and my eyes with flame?nameless, O spoken name,king, lord, speak blameless Hymen.Why do you blind my eyes?why do you dart and pulsetill all the dark is home,then find my souland ruthless draw it back?scaling the scaleless,opening the dark?speak, nameless,…

Than any cool godIn a chamber underLycia’s far coast,Than any high godWho touches us notHere in the seeded grass.Aye, than ArgestesScattering the broken leaves.

cycle of seed-timeand of sun and rain;Demeter in the grass,I multiply,renew and blessBacchus in the vine;I hold the law,I keep the mysteries true,the first of theseto name the living, dead;I am the wine and bread.I keep the law,I hold the mysteries true,I am the vine,the branches, youand you.

IAm I blind alas,am I blind,I too have followedher path.I too have bent at her feet.I too have wakened to pluckamaranth in the straight shaft,amaranth purple in the cup,scorched at the edge to white.Am I blind?am I the less ready for her sacrifice?am I less eager to givewhat she asks,she the shameless and radiant?Am I…

some lovely, perilous thing,orchids piled in a great sheath,as who would say (in a dream),‘I send you this,who left the blue veinsof your throat unkissed.’Why was it that your hands(that never took mine),your hands that I could seedrift over the orchid-headsso carefully,your hands, so fragile, sure to liftso gently, the fragile flower-stuff–ah, ah, how was…