Eve Considers the Possibility of Pardon

In one dream I am made watchful.
In this dream the name we never clearly have heard   
is spoken, which name, if we knew

and could speak it, would call back to us   
those whom in time we will have come to love   
and who will die; would bring them back to us

like us abandoned again
to his terrible consequence,   
the silence between us

forever affirmed. And in whatever   
might constitute the pardon   
would come down in a fragile rain

the whole matter of all
we will ever love, the whole
fiery blade of space, ten billions of suns

suddenly blossoming small and cool   
as snowdrops over the opening graves,   
the world shimmering with the blue

delicate membrane of the fallen sky,
while above us the forsaken voice calls out   
come back come back

as if calling the name
each of us had long forgotten
until that very instant not remembered

as proper to our hearts.