Communion

How is it, muse, to let the

Tannin browned waters slip

Over your bared body,

Head disappeared beneath

Inky waters that do not let

You see your hand?

How is it, muse, to walk on

Honky nutted tracks in your

Naked, barefooted thuds of

Delicious pain and the spirits

Dancing over your body in the

Delight of a new found friend?

It feels alive, it feels wild, and

A bit ridiculous too, that such

Simplicity can create such joy and

Yet not be commonplace or

Even at all. 

That the chatter of 

These beings who want 

Me to know that 

They're here, and 

They're alive, as alive 

As the raindrops as they

Prattle upon my head

Upon my neck my back

Of our secret and

Our Mystery.

That is how it feels

When you open up

To me, that is the

Gift of The World.