Tulip

Tulip, tell me, what do you hold in your cup?
I hold in my cup the magic that swells the thirst of your soul, O Mother, when you look on the form of your child; the opiate that fills your dream, Mother, with the awe of the Unknown!
But, Tulip, tell me, why do you guard your magic beyond the wing of melody?
Because, ere Thought was, a kiss of Love did capture Death in the Seed of Life. That is why no melody of Life can hold all the magic in my cup, Mother; that is why Love cannot hold your child in Life alone!
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