Troy-Albany Trance-Formations

I wish I had more to say than I do. Alas, this is all I’ve got today.

#32

Mother Earth! What poems do you want written?
Blood, Flesh, Bone – Mater, all come from your matter.
I sit by a gloried river, smitten
by quiet stately beauty. A pattern
of awestruck silence, simplicity
itself. Such tremendous power you hold
effortlessly. And quadruplicity
elements water, fire, air, earth, true gold
to we alchemists and poets seeking
these grandest of grail cups, Excaliburs’
passion, flame. Oh! a crackle-buzz streaking
through my body, some orgasmic shivers
no doubt that celebrate this life’s easy joys
(while mischievously unsettling our poise).