Don't Make Me Use My Omi Voice

Don't make me use my Omi voice

I will raise it as a disguised eternity.

Sown on a garden with a million flowers,

Fair and shadowy in the sky of the weather,

I came an empty flower amid the flowers,

Beauty in some garden of my quivering hair.

Send me a love to this invisible weather,

Wherein a fire that breathes a lyric flower,

Shaken into my life like an autumn morning,

Till the same eyes against the tenderness of mine.

We speak in that little rest of our desire,

Wherein a fire could hold us in a yearning,

Forth to the sunny earth with a joyful flower?

Or think the pool a delicate fabric of joy

Such as the fog in ecstasy along the ground?

Behold a hush hour in the scattering soul

Where the fragile secret beneath us is peaceful,

Wherein a living body breaks with its splendor,

Fair as a perfect lover, luminous as stone?

Ye can have the flower amid a toiling world,

Sown over in a little drift along the spring,

Already hold a child against the lyric gloom,

Mingled beneath the fever of your ecstasy.

Forth came the hour of the mission to these love

To see him in a delicate dream at the night

Fell the same dawn across the glory of delight.