Song of Songs 4:6, 13-14

I’ve made up my mind. Until the darkness disappears and the dawn has fully come, in spite of shadows and fears, I will go to the mountaintop with you— the mountain of suffering love and the hill of burning incense. Yes, I will be your bride.

Your inward life is now sprouting, bringing forth fruit. What a beautiful paradise unfolds within you. When I’m near you, I smell aromas of the finest spice, for many clusters of my exquisite fruit now grow within your inner garden. Here are the nine: pomegranates of passion, henna from heaven, spikenard so sweet, saffron shining, fragrant calamus from the cross, sacred cinnamon, branches of scented woods, myrrh, like tears from a tree, and aloe as eagles ascending.

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