Bare Earth (A Poem)
Following a point of light
down an industrial tunnel,
this is neither a near death experience
nor a joy ride.
Simply shrouded in red:
I am a siren with black hair slashed
into many intricate layers.
Covering my face;
blown by the wind violently.
And I am violent.
Violently in love with you.
Here I am riding a portal
from my silver chamber
deprived of icons
into your open world
of desert and grass.
There you feel real wind and touch bare earth.
How I want to hold you in my hands.
Cupped like a plastic flower of many rays.
I love your nectar, the sweet innocence
at the center.
The honey that drips from your stem
when I pluck you.
I know - soul to soul -
of your kindness and concern.
And in this galaxy of concrete and glass,
of hard steel and conflict
your meadow and perfume
is a lovely apparition.
I want to walk hand in hand with you
in your world of light,
ride
over the desert in floating boxes,
past mountains and elevators to the summit.
Swallowing our love in glass jars.
How deeply is my longing
to lie down with you on bare earth
surrounded by an open, cloudy sky.
Pierced by intense light,
refracted by many mirrors.
Holding your hand
stroking your cheeks
Your pale body against my plaid skin.
Awashed in revelation.
My subteranean world an unpleasant memory.
My loneliness a forgotten pain.
There is only you, me, wind and the glowing sun
in the center of our hearts.
