Sap Rising

Choking words
Cold, claggy at the back of the throat
Coating all with the would-be eloquence of the web-walled volubility evinced by madmen and poets
A magpie mind chattering half-recognized associations illuminated by dust
And the half-eclipsed silvering of a howling moon
Howling, head-shaking cries, syllable-veined and shattering
I long to illume life in the darkness of a hand clasp, a gasping kiss
The fathomless loam that feeds us
I am churning with it, each exhalation engenders flame
Weaving soil, weeping a soul into speech
Turning back, eyes laughing invitation
Benediction unfurls tender, nourishing shoots
Follow it ’round to center, deepening
The pith whispers of renewal
And the burgeoning hope of heart-true springs

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