It is
nothing from you I want,
nothing you
could give up
in order to
complete me.
Not your
love nor your freedom,
not the
story of who you were
nor the
dream of who you are becoming.
Yet it is of
you I thirst,
of the truth
that pours from your lips
when your mind
falls into silence.
It is of you
I hunger,
of the sweet
nectar that emanates from your body
when you
loose yourself in your senses.
It is of you
I lust,
of the
ecstasy that rises from your touch
when your
fingers run wild throughout the forest.
It is of you
I yearn,
of the gentleness
that lights up your eyes
when your
tears yield for forgiveness.
It is of you
I remember,
of the seed
you sowed in my heart
when you
spoke my name for the first time.
It is of you
I need,
of the life
that you shelter in your breath
when you let
yourself flow with the river to the sea.
Yet it is
not I who needs of you,
it is the
flame in me that needs to reunite
with the
flame in you.
Can you not
feel your own flame
calling onto
me:
‘it is of
you I need’?
Yet your
fear of me
as the prey
fears of its hunter,
reluctant to
surrender to the feast of life.
You suspect
of me
as the blind
is suspicious of his light,
unsuspecting
of the rainbow arching beneath his brows.
You deny of
me
as the deaf
denies his own voice
unaware of
the symphony playing in his heart.
You
disapprove of me
as the fool
disapproves of his own power
uneager to
take his place in the family of things.
Yet I still
stand here
with my
roots embedded into the yolk of my land
and my wings
orbiting the path of the stars.
I claim what
is mine
for this is
my place
and I have
the right to be here.
I am here to
remember
who I am,
woman,
keeper of
wisdom and grace.
I am here to
learn how
to look
beyond my own reflection
of mirrors
in mirrors in mirrors.
I am here to
dance with you
the dance of
lovers until
we become
the vessel of love.
