The Gardener XXVIII: Your Questioning Eyes

Your questioning eyes are sad. They seek to know my
meaning as the moon would fathom the sea.
I have bared my life before your eyes from end to end,
with nothing hidden or held back. That is why you know
me not.
If it were only a gem, I could break it into a hundred
pieces and string them into a chain to put on your neck.
If it were only a flower, round and small and sweet, I could
pluck it from its stem to set it in your hair.
But it is a heart, my beloved. Where are its shores and its
bottom?
You know not the limits of this kingdom, still you are its
queen.
If it were only a moment of pleasure it would flower in an
easy smile, and you could see it and read it in a moment.
If it were merely a pain it would melt in limpid tears,
reflecting its inmost secret without a word.
But it is love, my beloved.
Its pleasure and pain are boundless, and endless its wants 
and wealth.
It is as near to you as your life, but you can never wholly
know it.