I love when my hands
guide your hips
to the rhythm of the tide.
Gradually, how it
creeps up the shore
erasing footprints
and flattening castles
despite the color of the sky
or the direction of the wind.
And how it becomes
possessed by demons
screaming the lord’s name in vain
when the storm is near
and men drown shipwrecked.
And how, late in the evening,
it multiplies the feminine
face of the moon
in every rising crest.
What a pleasant, dazzling fire
The tide can make.
D.Q. 12/14/05
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5 comments:
beautiful
~
okbye
This is gorgeous. Such subtle sensuality, and the imagery is amazing. Nice write!
Thanks - You guys are toooooooo kind.
Keros, I was just reading Octavio Paz today who wrote, there is an "identity between woman and nature. Is water feminine, or is a woman a succession of waves, a river at night, a beach at dawn tattooed by the wind? If we are a metaphor of the universe, the human couple is the metaphor par excellence, the point of intersection of all forces and the seed of all forms."
I couldn't help but think of your poem when I read Paz's insights.
nice work -
nancy.
Michael- Thanks for reading my poem and leaving a comment.
Nancy- I also thank you for stopping by...as far as your comment, every woman is a goddess in my eyes. It must have also been obvious to Paz.
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