The Waters of Her Love

From her earth
my recumbent growth spreads
covering her skin
in waves of green foliage,
of hot, burning tears,
each a germinating seed
rooted, growing,
a poem and a dream,
a sun blazing out
in her celestial sphere,
shouting her to an effulgence
that blinds the sight
and opens the heart’s eye
to the sacred text
which her being
in its very motion utters,
and uttering it
she gives birth to all of life,
to the emptiness that moulds
the formless into form,
melting all in a drop
of the waters of her love.

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7 thoughts on “The Waters of Her Love

  1. never knew the word “germinating”, and now within 10 minutes I see it twice: here in your beautiful poem, and in a text of C.G.Jung: …”the rain is the fructifying of the earth, it begets the new weat, the young, germinating God”…💜ur poem: “she gives birth to all of life, to the emptiness that moulds the formless into form” ..

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    1. Wonderful coincidence! Every raindrop is a seed, bearing in her womb, in her matter, the very essence of life—in every raindrop water and fire are united, the effervescence of life.

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