God was a hawk in the glow of the morning, a bee

in the rose that has stars for her petals,

The far lights felt him, the first-born lamps

Spun from the brush of his wings when he bathed in

the splendor of a firmament men's eyes never imagined,

Exulting in the beauty of things, a free eagle.

But love drew him dustward, for love's sake he

stooped, like a lover came God with a garland of suns

In his locks and the wild wine freedom on his lips

To the earth and the arms of a Jewess, and to a house

with a tribe of tame serpents in the handmaiden planet

Of a least of the stars -- the descent of the lover.


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