Vernal Equinox

Sunlight caresses hilltops
Diffused by dewy gossamer
Entangled among the scene leaving
Its sparkling remembrance
On them, on me,
On trees too. Attempting to
Raise those dumbbell eyes
To greet a day not for
Me with gloppy
Moist ejaculations muting the suns
Prongs. Yet I rise: crawl,
Sprawl, hobble, wobble,
Stand
Walk, hop.

And life in moving
Rotates-The Sun
Manipulating, crafting
A path toward penetration.

And I wake my eyes again,
Again yet it’s later and the Sun
Stands straight, austere,
Not allowing blockades this time.
Through the door I
Come; Sun surrounds me,
Envelops me in its golden transmission.
Warming, weakening, empowering
‘Til it envades my soul, my body.
Sleep no longer permeates in crevasse filled
With shafts of Sunbeams.
And I am grown, am woman,
Am just me
Because of this seemingly
Never-ending
Sun.

And life in moving
Rotates-The Sun
Continues
Manipulating, crafting, succeeding
A path toward penetration and retreat.

Rising, Reaching,
CLIMAXING, Then
The slow setting is in place.
Stroking those maiden hills,
Embracing those virgin roads,
Rustling those rolling meadows,
And one breath spreads
The dewy down telling
The world
To
Rest.

And the days when the Sun
Came seem so far,
So far away and yet
My toes still tingle,
And my mouth still moistens,
And my knees, my
Knees they tremble
As if it-he-it never left remembering
The creation of the purist pallets
When he gleamed on them
The hills raised, the trees became
Erect, and the firmament gained a twinkle.

Now I look on those memories,
A mere mural of lights in the
Sky which once was my life.
One more star, a rose-flesh colored
Light from the beach on that night long
ago. Do you, can you
Remember?

I can, in me
Still. And yet your comet
Still pervades
Other’s skies.

Yet there is one consolation,
That life in moving
Rotates-The Sun
Manipulating, crafting, succeeding
A path which creates and relates
And mostly connects the seemingly
Separate quality existing in
The day.