The sky is the realm of one,

We are the realm of three.

Two are for balance:

Mind and heart,

Ritual and faith,

Rock and sea.


Words gliding against branches,

Chasing rolls of pleated chiffon.


Moon-kissed breasts,

Moving to the scent of morning. 


When would you like to make love to me?

In winter, I am sprinkled over blue spruce.

In spring, I am the scent of a snowdrop tree.

I am your myth,

A harvest hymn.

The third of three.


Copyright 2020