In Springtime,
all of nature
falls in love.
The air is wet
with arousal,
fragrant with pollen
and the scent
of raw need.
In springtime,
our bodies ache towards each other
like the First Man
and First Woman did,
the first time they made love,
when the heavens opened up
and the gods applauded like thunder
and a million flowers took latin names
and carved their shapes
out of the green pith
of possibility,
blossoming into a full rainbow
of lurid colors.
In springtime,
clouds cry their heavy tears
that seep into the land,
feeding plants, nourishing roots,
shaking off the sadness of death
that winter brings.
The Earth opens
like a mouth
to receive
the Sun’s kiss.
Love shines.
love falls into nature
I love the imagery here! This was beautiful, thanks for sharing 🙂
Reblogged this on eroticapoetica and commented:
Today I am sharing this poem again in celebration of Purim and Nowruz, two festivals of early spring renewal and revelry that may share ancient roots