earth
at her fortress sleep descends the night
so sun show me your dawning soul
clouds where are your ancestors
for in their beds the rivers dry
that ancient queen the earth has rocked
and in her slow season so she
wears no skirt or furs of ice
pendulate pleasures rocking naked hot
she sways and swirls and swish her aerial hair
in its shake are harder finer brighter sorrows
than any children bring
her whims are born abroad
the tempest issues in and out her limbs
gales and squalls pluck the forest strings like harps
and auras through the rye grass run
bells clashing back and forth
chiming tumult among the raging atmosphere
and in their singing so her beauty flowed
and her freshness and destruction
rent upon the itching mites of men
lent her ragged cleanliness
and thus her ire was spent
she lay calm upon the hot day sands
and bathed her body in the cool of showers night
in her brooch i saw the fishes swim
and in her azure pupils clouds were foaming far away
and on her nails pink and long were galactic fires
and fingers drawed slender rose like silken saplings new
arms and lithe smooth legs
brown as rivers liquefactions elegantly flowed
the waters sinews life bestowing
and huge boulders astragalus flexed where torrents raged
i have only wonderment and worship
for her grace
i have only praise, small worthless words
amid her grandiose gestures
and only dull misconception of her ingenuity
my strung bow fires its dart in crescents joy
as tribute to her jewel encrusted suzerainty
i kneel upon her carpet and wish for no more
than be alive and in her scrutiny
for contemplation is a twofold thing
and reverence the fire and forge and fist and synergist
of many an illustrious industry