I hear the honey in you
speaking through the honeycomb of your soul.
My spirit ears are flowers attuned to the taste of love.
When your poems blossom like sky petals
we all go crazy for that scent.
I can hear the ice melting in your wine
and feel love's lips drinking that pure drop
that falls between the fire and the sea.
We are all writing our sacred testament
in the language that only a drowned heart has become.
Saying ourselves in the manner of small blossoms
that contain the ocean.
I can hear love breaking open in your heart-bud
as a butterfly too bright to be seen by the world.
I can see the way it opens thought wings
and makes a time-place for them to spread
being this flight of you through us.
We are all hanging like moonbeams upon your breath
waiting for you to show us where the sea goes.
We are all willing you to blossom in our beings
so that we can flower also.