The Jungle of Doubt

One morning I rose to the apple-bud dawn,
her hues painted softly upon the clear sky,
and we walked side by side through the Jungle of Doubt;
we tread step for step, my Beloved and I.
Bright blossoms of Passion snaked over our path,
their cloyed aphrodisiac poisoning the air.
And nothing we spoke and little we thought;
brief Fantasy bled in the jaws of Despair.  
In the deepening silence the green Envies smiled,
dropping their emeralds to falter my feet.
Desire sprang up and pressed coals on our eyes -
our vision blurred steamy by treacherous Heat.
Two wily constrictors, the twin Guilt and Shame,
writhed ‘round to entwine us in deadly embrace,
and little we screamed and nothing we dreamed
‘til cloudbursts brought floodings of tenuous grace.
Alone in our Jungle with all swept away,
the shades of Uncertainty galloped from sight
as the beams of Decision streamed through the green-deep
to wreath my Beloved in silver-shorn light.
But there he dissolved like a raindrop to root
to greet the True Angel who waited above,
and greatly I wept and long did I sigh
‘til I crawled to my bed, wanting nothing of love.
This morning I dressed in the fire-scorched dawn,
her open wounds streaming across my grey dome,
and, naked, returned to the Jungle of Doubt,
knowing each step I walked through it alone.