Forms of Love

Absolution

Come with me and step into this grove
of cedars. Let us breathe together
deeply scents of old forests mourning.
Let us spread upon these leaves bright quilts
patched by a thousand grandmothers, sad
gifts for daughters' daughters' beds of faith
and duty. If you wish I will call
paintbrush, firewheel and gay feather
to bloom again out of season or
I will drop blossoms of wild summer
roses into clay bowls filled with cool
water and with cloth torn from my shirt,
I will wash your hands and neck, your face
and feet, your breasts and sex. If you wish
I will sweeten your naked strength with
almond oil then leave you to rest in
warm cedar shade. I will stand beneath
the cruel sun until he falls from his
pulpit and the white moon sings from her
loft the song of your magnificence.
When you call, if you call, I'll return
to you. I will carry a bottle
of perfect wine, heavy on the tongue
with one last taste of cherry and loaves
of crusty bread, light as fish inside,
tasting of sesame and olives.
Together we will serve the other
who has always been traveling with us.
We who are wonderers all have our
stories but I, who love you now, hear
nothing to forgive. I can only stand
on firm ground and admire you. I see
volcanoes in your soul I hope some
day to dance inside. I bow before
the ten thousand births that nest in you.