If I Have Forgotten

Now, as I peer among strange reflections
push through the wide-eyed throng-- what have I forgotten?
Now, as I wander uncharted pathways
fading among hidden hedgerows-- what have I forgotten?
It was just here--
there, somewhere--
underfoot, outside in, on the tip of my tongue,
closer to me than my jugular vein.
Now, as I swirl the leaves in my cup
and watch the clouds and the flight of birds-- what have I forgotten?
What have I lost?
Surely it was a Name,
the Name that was breathed in the trees
the Name that the surf roared
the Name that echoed in the cave
the Name that the rolling earth writes on the heavens.

If I have forgotten the Name of my Beloved,
let Him whisper it in my sleep.
If I have forgotten the Name of my Beloved,
let Him write it in the smoke.
If I have forgotten the Name of my Beloved,
let Him draw taut the strings of my heart--
and play it!