The lightning bolt is a whip that strikes my medieval garden-
the violet flash welding heaven and earth into one,
a moment with nothing but the outlines of paradise, then nothing
It will be a solitary instance of enlightenment
in which this fool, taken in by dreamy ignorance,
will spend an entire lifetime without ever realizing it.
Shortly afterward the sound of thunder, or possibly anxiety?
Someone stamping their feet on the floor of heaven-
all the flowers and branches that saw the flash of light turn to
ash and torrential rains pour down
transforming the garden into heaps
of coal - could it still be paradise?