Do not sigh for the Beloved of the "old days" —

Let your sighs fan the flame of your this-moment praise.

Let zeros cancel zeros. Even the robins have brought

You heartening news of battles being bravely fought.

Don't let anyone tell you that we're not all in the same boat;

Those that saw Him were seeing no more than a beautiful coat.

His physical presence was his challenge to us: Here I am; now find me.

But even when I am found, nothing but the rope of my Name can bind me. —

Whether one saw Him or not, He is still knocking on each Heart-door

And each heart is still harboring strangers — what matter some few, some more!

Chuck out the want-strangers and make your house His comfortable home.

And remember He's hungry, but will eat only Name-honeycomb.

If the beautiful Beloved were not here, where, O where could He be?

There is not a drop, which does not contain Ocean's oceanity.