Flourish

I relinquish my heart to the violence of the moment
that you might flourish
in my relentless prophecy of love . . .
 
Forgiveness drapes gently over your shoulders
with the fragrance of old growth cedars . . .
their stands rising high in the mountains
casting ancient shadows
over clear running streams . . .
 
Follow me . . .
far from the shards and the broken glass
of your tumultuous night
into the clean sudden coolness of early morn . . .
 
Refresh yourself . . .
in clear running streams . . .
yielding your naked body to snow melt . . .
revived and reborn . . .
swimming with schools of golden trout . . .
 
But now, my love . . .
let us speak of things . . .
those sacred things holy in our hearts . . .
and lie together
tenderly
for you are my prize . . .
possessed in the sanctity of love
that we may be
endlessly