i'd like to wade
out into the st.croix;
the flooded areas,
where forests stand
grasping at the water
and sky
arches
of a great
september sunrise cathedral.
i want to walk in that water
naked and bare
and lay down
in that pool of dawn
and let the peaches
and oranges
and silt
and autumnal leaves
baptize me.
last night
i stared up into
the ancient fall sky
the pines and oaks
framing the idols,
the constellations,
a stained glass romance.
they say when you look
into the night sky
you're looking into the past;
millions and millions
of light years away,
we merely see
the reflected ghosts
of dead stars,
their funeral pyres
building our stories and skies.
that's how they felt when
they looked at us;
something primordial
was resurrected
in our touch
as we stood on the bluff.
the prairie grass
and sumac berries
of this valley
left love bites
on my neck
and stains of fall
on my thighs.
i feel holy.
let's baptize each other
make our own religion
of spiderwebs and morning dew
and waterfalls and sky gazing;
let's forget
all those false prophets,
and fall into the fog
of natural history
and wild whisperings.
YOU ARE READING
Meet Me in the Woods
Poetryassorted poetry inspired by nature, family and the life of a person who spends far too much time in her head. (sexuality, death and decay are alluded to or directly addressed in some of my poems. these poems are marked by "*" in the chapter title.) ...
