garden of love

I came to the garden of love
mistook the shrine for a chapel
for it seemed holy & right
and felt so good to kneel there
at the idol of my need

the briars grew & ivy wild
many thorns razorlike
& at once this lost child
stood straight & knew
that if there was not a door
for the lonely & the poor
a banner up above
that read enter
it would be dark damp cold

so I felt & groped
for the archway & the door
found at last the chapel of love
flowers at my feet
& read in braille
what my toes felt beneath