River That Flows Home  

tonight the moon watches
as my tears puddle into your clay banks
joins the current pulsing North.
I do not know why I cry.
these are not beads of despair
nor is it ecstasy that moves the river within.

tonight I lay on your firm darkness and inhale
the spicy scent of ripe woman.
cover myself in your blanket of golden death
hear you whisper in the wind
a symphony of crickets and katydids
deep throated owl calls who-who

tonight as the night sky
wraps itself flamboyantly
in green and pink scarves
dances wildly to the coyotes howl,
I burrow into the embrace of wise woman,
my fingers entwine diamond willow
toes dig deep into your warm belly,
heart frees itself from all longing
rests in the roots of your womb and
surrenders to the serenade of your love song.

tonight I cry
tonight, I am the river that flows home.

 

© 2006 Deborah Vos