The poem came to me first, on April 30, 2003. I was at work when the image of a dark haired magician appeared to me in a garden, holding his arms wide, with a flower in one hand, telling me the above words.

Then May 28, 2003, the image came briefly, wordlessly, of a dark haired magician offering me a very large and fragrant red rose. I swear I could almost smell the incredibly scented rose.

I knew I had to capture the essence of that potent image...

...I did not know until later this 'magician' is really an aspect of myself. I am the figure in the moonlight, a lost garden-wanderer holding a bloom I am at first is not sure is mine. Only after a test of deep inhalation can I be sure. Then I want the mysteries, all of them, and all their layers. Experience alone yields proof.