Watching the budding vine of petals unfurl
all through winter I am looking for spring
the daffodil yellow greens, the lilac blossoming
of tiny star flower florets, sweet the songbird chorus
moss softly sunning, the trickle of forest creeks running
the remembrance and fragrance, the pungent warmth of rain
drops, wet and round, bounced from trees, upon my face falling down
cool splash, the startling of my eyelash
wet washing and alive, the resurrection, the cycle
of all things again reborn.

In the water, some tears erased
below the surface, they slip away
only a watery grave of what used to be
a mirage, a vision of possibility
a looking glass, this moon-green sea.

Verily we are suspended
to one another invisibly threaded
gold spun, finely woven
we breathe the air of summer
silken petaled, softly subtle
through these woods treading sun dappled
we come to rest, in a rosy heaven
lose the world of whirling much too fast
to gain the moment, lose the future and the past.

December's child
with fire you were forged
your eyes are liquid amber poured
always I dream to kiss
your perfect lips divinely cast
the sweetness of your breath
the warmth that moves across my flesh
your hands and arms are sculpted bronze museum art
indelibly in mind when you are far
the hot of your delicious mouth
traveling gently, slowly south.

In this desert
I touch the ocean within,
here where I abandon all plans,
I spend hours watching cloud formations
of flowers blooming violet, red.
I travel to the sanctuary of the soul
each morning, sit silent
at the altar of dawn.

gentle water ripples
snow of falling flower petals
soft the landing of your lips
we merge like clouds in dream
become one, learn to breathe in sync

I stay awake with stars, thinking of your eyes
amber fields, flecked with golden moons
your lips, red cast by secret coral worlds
swim, my hands you catch in woven nets
roped hair of salt and seaweed curls
hold my breath, catch and save myself
nightly, in the deep end, just before I drown.