Early

the sun
is not awake
and yet I stir
from my short
hibernation
to graze the
kitchen for
something to
sit on my newly
risen stomach,
numb still
from the grave,
to savor the
brown nectar
that keeps me alive
and that will allow
my lumbering figure
to greet the sun
at our special place

Trees fluttering
wing spread
open
accepting
in the fierce wind
leaves as fingers
caressing the sky
forced to catch
the rushing pulse
of the earth
as it beats
slowly
painstakingly
through their toes
shivers sent
in a system
of complete
control
chaos
as its ultimate beauty
and natural form
of seeing
not with eyes
but with breath

What is it about you

What is it
about you
that makes me
feel warm fires
and cool rivers,
hands drenched
and soaking,
what is it
about you
that when I see
red I feel the passion
strongly invoked,
a dragon ready
to protect,
red hot coals
burning on the inside,
my stomach
a raging storm
of thunder and lightning,
what is it
about you
that turns me
in to this