“You have many lovers, and yet I alone love you. Other men love themselves in your nearness. I love you in yourself. Other men see a beauty in you that shall fade away sooner than their own years. But I see in you a beauty that shall not fade away, and in the autumn of your days that beauty shall not be afraid to gaze at itself in the mirror, and it shall not be
“I alone love the unseen in you.”
Then He said in a low voice:
“Go away now. If this cypress tree is yours and you would not have me sit in its shadow, I will walk my way.”
And I cried to Him and I said:
“Master, come to my house. I have incense to burn for you, and a silver basin for your feet. You are a stranger and yet not a stranger. I entreat you, come to my house.”
Then He stood up and looked at me even as the seasons might look down upon the field, and He smiled. And He said again:
“All men love you for themselves. I love you for yourself.”
And then He walked away.
But no other man ever walked the way He walked.
Was it a breath born in my garden that moved to the east? Or was it a storm that would shake all things to their foundations?
I knew not, but on that day the sunset of His eyes slew the dragon in me, and I became a woman, I became Miriam, Miriam of Mijdel.