Wednesday, August 20, 2014

The color of wildflowers

Did you sleep well?
Did your body bloom with relief. . .
wild flowers in the moonlight
My fingertips sowed then into your beauty last night
Tilled muscle and skin until they sighed in relief
And then in the dark of your room. . . 
stretching toward the unseen moon
little buds peeked out, 
yawned with a tender uncurling of leaves,
and the colors came. . .

the little white blooms, like snow blossoms
shy blue droplets of sky and sea
bright yellow joy, shaped as tiny lions calling to the moon
the valleys of your back held tense a moment, 
a sigh of relief at the end of a torrent of rain.

and then the million unnamed colors of love
the kind you saw when you realize in a daze
that our love had thwomped you on the head
and you briefly feared that you might never, ever
see straight. . . 
ever again. . .

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