A Mother To All Children
She sits quiet in her beauty
Entering her room,
Like tea pouring from a kettle
Soft, warm light will lower shoulders.
History and piano lightly circulate
While her gentle voice soothes the weariest of bones.
A mother to all children.
She is hydration
And every little decoration
Her tapestries rich,
Clothing a muted landscape
Holding her fleshy, full bodice –
Is charity her name?
Is grace her vocation?
Relief is as effortless as breath.
Pure is the taste of her intimacy.
Sweet salvation and naturalness
Even the breeze can see
Taking pause by her window
To smell her air, sweetly.
This moonsong woman
Wildly and wonderfully bathing
In the complexity of her wildlife.
In her company, nature sighs.
And therein lies –
You Are Nature To Me, Too
I create beauty
And sink my toes into the sand
I dissolve away any heartache
Or reluctance for you to be my man.
You are nature to me, too,
And cosmic forces be damned
All I want is to love you
But you don’t have to be my man.
It’s only me and you and God in this room
So open your eyes and see,
Sink your toes into my carpet
And run your hands up my dress slowly.
Men carve names into my bark
And rip leaves off branches as they pass by
But you plant flowers at the base of my roots
And nourish my soil in ways I can’t quantify.
I am certain there is no one like you
And that my heart only reads your name
Your colors are a brushstroke of genius
Unbeknownst to me, your everything laid claim.
As native and inherit
As the sky is blue
So effortless and unsurprising
God taught me how to love you.
Two days early or two days late,
I hear you just the same
Fold into my arms, we have an entire fire to burn
And my real love for you is an eternal flame.