Wednesday, March 03, 2010

vernal fatale

Breathe your breath of desire on me
and fan the flames of creativity
as the snow melts and the crocus stir
after long and languid sleep.

Let the buds swell
and the sap run
let the freshet flow
under an engorged sun
and give rise to may pool music.

Let me savor scents of awakened must
and feel on my face the moistened dust
as the vernal mother rolls and swells
and takes me deep inside.

Ice out,
the waters rise
ebbing and flowing
to you,
to you.

Flooded out,
the drifts and bergs
must finally
bid
adieu.


1 comment:

Bekah said...

Your writing is so passionate, Keith. There is so much more to you than meets the eye. I love it!