Just reminded of a poem from my collection ACHES OF HEART (Calcutta: Writers Workshop, 1988). This to me has a certain resonance vis-a-vis Eliot's picture at the following link. Too presumptuous? 


Dans le Jardin 

I did not know
Crossing the threshold 
Would mean 
Taking all the steps.
I had fancied 
The perfection only 
Of one step together.