across the lake of my sowing.
They float to depths
from which great stalks will then grow,
touch the surface, from miles below.
Temptatious aqua-fairies take refuge
in their twisting tentacles.
Locks of zest green tendrils
touch all their most private places.
Alone, I know they’ll come around
to speak their labyrinth network
and tell me just how it is that
the vines nourish their souls and throats.
“With so much love to spare
in such an ample tree,
we make room for all
and share a destiny.”
With eyes narrowed and furrowed brow,
the temptress turns away.
I’ve posed my questions, sown the seeds
so now must run the day:
to live and love is calculated,
but only when at bay.
-Feb 3, 2010