Lilith’s Garden
There are many blossoms growing
In the garden of my dreams,
Where Dos Lagrimas is flowing
And the moon of Lilith gleams,
There the tall and somber cypress
Casts her shadow on the streams.
On the isle from mortals hidden,
By Her tree the Mother stands,
Lady of our loves forbidden
With a sphere between Her hands,
Fruit of knowledge, truth and wisdom
Glowing red between Her hands.
Through the night She calls forever
In a mournful minor strain,
For the children who may never
Suckle at Her breasts again;
Banished by the curse of Adam
They can’t return again.
Yet my soul released in slumber,
Wandering on that moonlit shore,
Sees in flowers without number
Faces I have known before;
In each fragrant floral chalice,
Faces I have known before.
Dark Jeannette with eyes so tender
But whose love could not abide,
Analee of bright-haired splendor
Who was taken from my side;
Little sweetheart of my childhood,
Cruelly riven from my side.
Sad Dolores, angel fallen
Not from Heaven but on Earth,
By some phosphorescent pollen
In the lily finds rebirth;
From the pain of perdition,
On this petal finds rebirth.
There are others, but why name them?
It would only bring more tears,
So I’ll bless and never blame them,
All have vanished with the years
From my life but not my loving,
They have vanished with the years.
Adam who brought crime and sorrow
To our crippled human race,
Not tomorrow nor tomorrow
Shall you find this hallowed place,
And you cannot keep the Poet
From your first Love’s warm embrace.
~
Victor H. Anderson