Quest

I wish to keep the echoes of land, not seen.
The tall grass bent with chirruping crickets,
And full of rasping grasshoppers, and mice
to scurry underfoot. The gentle blooms
scenting trails to attending bees. Thrusting
buds green with birth from the awakened
trees. The leaves fingers cupping the gazing
sun. To be held in my mind with blue sky.

I wish to breathe the passion of the storm.
The white lightning strikes into the raw
and open earth, leaving steam to rise
from the joining. The full bellies of dark
thunderheads streaming rain to renew
life, and blowing fresh air in clean gales
to wash the ground and all structures
upon it. To fill me with daring new things.

I wish to hold your hand, gentle in mine.
To journey in your eyes and follow the path
to your inward light that shines in concert
with the moistening of your lips, and will
tell me of your desire. The grace and softness
of your form, to yield to my slow asking touch
and tell me with the sighs that all is pleasing
between us. As speaking to me of our love.

� 2000 DPMcClellan