EYES OF A NEW MORNING   <return to contents

Romancing a Druid
Beneath the stars of Gemini,
she stares upward, through the limbs
of a grandfather beech tree
that feels to her like an old home
that skipped through time just as she did –
on dances & visions.

(Her blood knows green,
that’s part of what attracted us.
Her soul knows green,
that’s what joined us.)

I never could’ve imagined
romancing a druid.
Not in dream, not in song,
not in all those mornings
staring out an old office window
at a grove of bearded oaks,
wishing upon rising wish
that I could jump to the fifth century,
don my black forest nakedness,
dance around the heart of the tree,
and hug her earthen roots.

Then we held each other,
beneath a tree,
and the old songs played again.
Under the moonlight.