heads held high and nostrils flared.
while owls whisper in dark gowned trees,
and the wind tugs at the mountains.
moonlight sifting through the clouds,
dogs bark from a distant door.
and the grass lies wet with desire,
waiting for the steps of the lover!
i built a small fire in the clearing,
took off my clothes and danced
to the hidden beat.
mumbling words that had no form,
while the sleeping swallow smiled.
reared back with primal instinct,
let forth the howl of want.
while ants played tiny drums,
and thunder clashed in perfect time.
down to the banks of the river,
where water courted stone….
and plunged into the icy depths…
a baptism of the senses.
back to the fire with eyes ablaze…
i too waited with longing.
for the scent, the sound, and the feel of flesh,
for the last door to be opened!