WHEN YOU WALK THROUGH MY DOOR

now I know

now I know why

sounds are born    from the belly

when death and birth join hands

in a round    dance    circle

I am alone but     held     by the heat.

I am drawn to you    I’m scared    I want to cry    out

in agony of losses. a sound collects in my throat

like rain in clay pots, bursting in movement and sound.

let there be sound of death and birth at the same time.

the hot wind licks my body, licks

the rustling grasses on the hill where I watch you drift by

I want to hold you the way the swelter holds me.

the moss-green bush,

the muddy green river meet    at the edge.

and I want

to reach out and make love to it

like I want

to reach out and make love to you

when you walk through my door.