I made love to the desert,
to the pinyon pines,
to juniper smoke and dried lavender,
planted my seeds there
in the springtime snow.
I sang to blue cornmeal
and Mother Spirits.
I danced to the gnarled riffs of blues guitar,
cradled myself in the music of bluegrass hymns,
slept with the ancestors,
huddled in woven blankets.
We laughed through hardships,
warmed our hearts with stories.
We were native to each other.
Wildflowers
of a graceful future
blossomed from my womb,
intrepid dreams with deep bulbs
for roots.
I left these plantings,
these beautiful parts of myself,
like frozen buds,
there, on tribal land,
at the peak
of a sacred mountain.
They tended to themselves
in my absence.
They grew,
with inchoate longings.
They were souls
that shimmered in the high desert starry night sky
waiting to be formed
by the magic
of love.
They were medicine spells cast
like lines
in the subtle poetry
of the otherworld.
This year,
destiny bloomed,
a green shoot
in springtime.
The seed of your body
nestling inside my rich and fertile ground;
my sweet scent
of geraniums flooding your senses.
I am thawed,
warmed
by your raging heat.
This birth
will come
to be.
I am happy for you. Beautiful!
Thanks sweetie 🙂
Lovely work! Great stanza after great stanza.
Thanks so much. I always appreciate your kind comments. Blessings to you 🙂
You’re welcome Same to you 🙂