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If my scattered dust turns into a heart again

If my scattered dust turns into a heart again,
It may pulsate again with the passions of the past.

If the nymphs of paradise entice me to sing,
The Fire within my heart will again warm their spirits.

Love has made me an ocean, boundless, fathomless,
But my self—awareness may change me into a shore.

In the world beyond, I fear lest my quest
May turn into a futile chase, a chase without an end.

Man’s rise has awakened jealous fear in the angels,
Lest this eclipsed star should one day become a full moon.

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