The copper Sun
piercing through a warrior-skin:
red Spirit raised
echoes of the Andes
across this wide, wide space --
A kingdom bathed in waterfalls:
rainbow-droplets cape
green Palm Valleys --
Ancient breaths breathe golden mist,
plume
an up-draft for our trembling
Dreams a-flutter
in the fullness of the night,
birds singing lovesongs,
nestled in the arms, of Old Acacia Sprites
Silver Fur ridges
on the black back of a Jackal --
howling, moon-light calls,
to an ultra-violet sky
Ears pull back, heads turn upward
gazing at blue eggshells
and trigger-painted speckles,
We gather flying bullets,
fold them into butterflies --
Scale upon beautiful scale,
twirling in a Trident Maple --
intricately pattern the purest truth:
to feel
My heart is shaped like Africa,
immaculately loved
Your heart is shaped, like Paradise,
Warm, within the wings,
of a common Turtle Dove
14 December 2012