Not a room full of gold and treasure
Not one hundred slaves at your ready
To bring you pleasure
Not silks and furs and pillows of down
For your total leisure
Are worthy of your presence
Your being is kissed softly
By perfumes and scents
But they do not add to your beauty
For perfect is infinite
You are that and so much more
Angel of the desert
Rose of the garden
Flower of my soul
I am not worthy of you
When you smile
Doves fly above the desert
In wild exultation
When you cry
Ravens call from dying trees
And in all the world
Dreams die
That you might love me
Gives me wings
Able to be wild
Rather than tamed
That you might call my name
Gives me hope
The kind about that angels sing
The kind that lets my heart rise up
Instead of being lamed
By my being
So unworthy
The hope of you alone
Redeems me
Fully
Completely
