The gentle evening wind knocks
And when I open the door, hoping it is you,
It enters, apologetic,
Spreads your fragrance all around
And quietly melts away.
The moon peeps from the window
Looking for you. It waits in the garden,
The whole night,
Till the early light drowns
The last hope that you might come.
The darkness slowly spreads around me,
Envelops me in its comforting embrace,
And your memories create a miasma
That dims all reality
And creates a wondrous new heaven.
The ache in my heart has grown,
To encompasses my entire being now.
I am free now. I remember nothing –
Not myself, not this world,
Not God, nor You.