Poetry for Springtime

My lover is the storm tossed sea

My lover is the storm tossed sea

And the calm after.

She is waves

Cresting and falling in nearly

Rhythmic succession.

Each mounting taller,

The sea spray

Broken from her by

Wind that curls her peaks

Down onto my decks,

The troughs between, so deep

They bear my keel,

Threaten to break me,

Bow unsupported as I

Steer my course into the

Swell.

My lover is the oasis

And the mirage.

I am mad, dehydrated,

Sun blind from her brilliance,

Thirsting for the water

She shows me lying after the next

Slipface, down the next

Dune, in the secret garden

Nourished from her hidden

Seep.

My lover is the winter mountains

And the avalanche.

She is granite feet,

Cedar thighs, obsidian

Glances, sharper than knives,

Snow and the sunlight on

Snow, movement like

Glaciers unstoppable,

Carving my world,

Cutting me asunder and

Lifting me up, her springtime

Waking my desert and filing my

Sea.

21 March 2017