The Earth Can Be Trusted

"The Earth can be trusted."  

She authors all pleasures leading skin to skin.    
She directs our days and nights to mark our time  
while we hazard our hopes against the moment  
when our endings intersect with this speck of eternity.  
 
From my ledge on our moving timeline  
I placed my hand on her brow, jealous of her eyes  
so totally at home in her nakedness.  
I don’t ask because I’ve heard her answer,  
“Our flesh is born of the Earth and the Earth can be trusted.”  
 
I part her cotton blouse and kiss a sunspot between her breasts  
lowering my ear reverently on her warm alter  
to hear the rhythms within.  
Then her words come to me through her chest,  
“We live all of life knowing we must die.”  
The bed swayed as she straddled me.   
 
We wagered together those moments  
to harvest the Earth’s pleasures from our flesh.  
Let our bodies embrace human  
fears in hopes that we might feel  
the most extreme edges of existence.  
 
Let us offer ourselves as sacrifices to imperfect human couplings  
that might approach the sacred.  
Ah, the occasional euphoric pleasures of our human creation!