of berries these
were none as sweet
to bleed
beside the briar
bursting
with impatience –
tempted
by the fall

of brother
into leaving us
guarded by the bees
whose eager drone
around the throne
was destiny
recalled

from far away
a rare bouquet
of honeysuckle violets
– tender flutes
to serenade
the warming
noonday
sun

beheld this patch
of paradise –
is softened by the light
was come for us
remembered us –
as longing
back to one

. . .