Dropped Dew

Dropped dew
As I came from tending
the Rose Garden
and was about to return
to my humble
shelter, my eyes
caught the gleam of
dropped dew like a tiny
trail along the path.
It was very early; the Sun had
not yet re-arisen;
the Stars still Dew twinkled
faintly in the sky.
Who could have come before me
to the Garden?
I followed the trail of dew, stooping
down so that I saw in each crystal drop
the reflection of a tiny star.
Thus came I to my lady’s chamber; she it
was who carrying roses had left this
silvery thread as a clue to her hiding place.
When I found her, her
eyes were closed, as she
pressed the fragrant the
pink blossoms to her
white breast.
Then did I bury my face in the
blossoms and I saw
not her eyes when she opened them in wonder.
Thus, too, would I follow
the Star-trail of Dropped
Dew, ere the re-arisen Sun
hides Thee from me, O My Beloved!
Thus would I come to Thee and
bury my face in Thy Breast
amid the Roses of Heaven.
 Nor should I dare to look into
Thine eyes, having
discovered Thy secret
– the Dew of Love 
the Elixir of Life.
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