The Garden of the Prophet - continued
And now it was eventide.
And he had reached the hills. His steps had led him to the mist, and he stood among the rocks and the white cypress-trees hidden from all things, and he spoke and said:
"O Mist, my sister, white breath not yet
held in a mould,
I return to you, a breath white and voiceless,
A word not yet uttered.
"O Mist, my winged sister mist, we are
together now,
And together we shall be till life's second
day,
Whose dawn shall lay you, dewdrops in
a garden,
And me a babe upon the breast of a
woman,
And we shall remember.
"O Mist, my sister, I come back, a heart
listening in its depths,
Even as your heart,
A desire throbbing and aimless even as
your desire,
A thought not yet gathered, even as your
thought.
"O Mist, my sister, first-born of my mother,
My hands still hold the green seeds you
bade me scatter,
And my lips are sealed upon the song you
bade me sing;
And I bring you no fruit, and I bring you
no echoes
For my hands were blind, and my lips
unyielding.
"O Mist, my sister, much did I love the
world, and the world loved me,
For all my smiles were upon her lips, and
all her tears were in my eyes.
Yet there was between us a gulf of silence
which she would not abridge
And I could not overstep.
"O Mist, my sister, my deathless sister
Mist,
I sang the ancient songs unto my little
children,
And they listened, and there was wondering upon their face;
But tomorrow perchance they will forget
the song,
And I know not to whom the sind will
carry the song.
And though it was not mine own, yet it
came to my heart
And dwelt for a moment upon my lips.
"O Mist, my sister, though all this came to
pass,
I am at peace.
It was enough to sing to those already
born.
And though the singing is indeed not
mine,
Yet it is of my heart's deepest desire.
"O Mist, my sister, my sister Mist,
I am one with you now.
No longer am I a self.
The walls have fallen,
And the chains have broken;
I rise to you, a mist,
And together we shall float upon the sea
until life's second day,
When dawn shall lay you, dewdrops in
a garden,
And me a babe upon the breast of a
woman."
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