From The Garden

Dwelling in your high lonely house, can
you see me waving, waiting beneath your window?
Through the walls of your stout fortress,
can you hear me hailing you from the garden?
Who has imprisoned you? And whom do you
say has imprisoned you?
For the power and consent is in the saying of it!

The roses weep dewdrops for you.
The grass begs the kiss of your dancing feet.
The wysteria has grown wild over the gate.
The doves sob with longing for sight of
your radiant countenance!

Like Rapunzel, I implore thee,
“Let down thy hair!”

Bound and smothered in gray-brown gowns
of stiff, scratchy lace, shrug them off!
For what richer raiment can there be, than
the sky, the wind, and the fragrance of flowers?
Rip the laces of the confining bodice so that you may
stretch your arms wide as you whirl into the sun!
Pin up your skirts as pantaloons, so you may
leap, run, tumble, and dance and dance and dance!
Kick off those narrow shoes that bind and pinch!
Sweep the pins from your lustrous hair and shake
it all out! Let it be wild once more, and filled
with leaves and grass, giggled secrets,
starlight, and dreams….

O Beautiful One!
Can you hear me calling?
I shall never stop, shall never
leave, shall never fall silent!
In the utmost depths, the shadowed chambers
where your gypsy heart languishes like
a caged bird, I AM YOU!
Lazarus, come forth!
Come down!
Come out!
Come away!
O please! Please! Please!
Come out and play!

-Frank H. Weeden