The dance of lovers

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.