the silver sun that rises inside of me
and every day closed the eyes of my heart
like a meditation that flies across
the bursting galaxies of time
and when I reached that place
where lovers are no longer afraid to grab
the molten lava of endlessness
toss it back and forth among each other
and finally eye-to-eye, lips-to-lips, thigh-to-thigh
make love in the steam of earth?
And what if I sang a song to you,
a song of the soil and the simple dew of dawn,
that meant something like—
we are children no more
yet neither are we old?