Oh my dearest honey sweet.

Oh my dearest honey sweet.

Most wonderful of flowers in the garden grand where have you gone?

Lilac goddesses in my head, just sitting there, behind my eyes, please come out. Lavender queen with your dress so long I beckon you.

Are you waiting at your tea table? Are you sitting in the house looking at the stars through the cracks in the floor? Are the lilies of the field whispering into your ears the sweet nothings that God has spoken to them? Are you reading the book with the broken spine that tells the sad story?

Rain covered princess here am I.

I am the sad man hidden in the porch wood. I am the farmer whose blood feeds his rows. I am the shingles of this roof. I am the pillar at the base of the stairs.

Where are you my magenta darling for whom I so dearly long? Have you hidden yourself away in the map of my heart? Are you caught in the thicket that nears itself to your worry? Have you been pricked by the thistles of loneliness?

I have cleaned my ax for you. It is newly sharpened. My steps hasten under me without a single thought.

This is no time for picnic baskets or homes made of gingerbread. No more men made of tin or breadcrumb trails. The era of little red capes and pales of water has come to its end.

So, little girl in the garden so grand, with hair a mess and head cloud bound, let yourself spin.

Spin you princess of the ages. Spin well and spin long.

That wind is my voice.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”