Love-rambles from Paradise

 
I forgot for a moment there,
but that is just the ebb.
I need only breathe
and bring the flow.  
 
My earth
is too bountiful to ever be fully scorched.
I am
a true oasis.
A solace,
a land of almond milk and local honey,  
a combination blessing of location,
luck,  
and careful cultivation.  
 
Surrender slipped away for a while  
the other night, I guess,
to go slip into a different dress,
fix her lipstick,
preen her power for a moment.
 
While she was away,  
I made room for her return -
 
I let my rage rinse me;
I was a tourniquet,  
a melted mountain, a mudslide.
I let horror race through my body
like wind through a tree.
Winter’s twigs broke,
but no bones.
 
I am no heaven;  
I am paradise.
I am not perfect -  
I grow what arises;
 
I cannot bother to waste my time
building walls to try to hide  
from anything.
I let in gentle silk sheets of rain
and tsunamis,
singing sunrays
and screaming fire.
 
All are welcome.  
Nothing stays -
and sometimes I forget, but more often, I remember -  
It is my mission
to let it all in.  
And let it out.  
Let it go.  
 
So, in reality, trembling, tummy sick with worry,
I didn’t, couldn’t fight it.  
I only came inside  
when I was calm enough
to put on riot grrrl anthems  
and wash every single dish in your sink
with a loving vengeance.  
 
And then I slept on your shoulder,
and the skies had lightened.  
Surrender strode back into me,
shining.  
 
You are your own man.
I respect that.
You must do what you must do.  
You trust me, and I trust you.
The boundary between you and me  
is a sacred line.  
I could never touch it,  
Ever. Well -
 
except when we play -
 
Yes, excepting those nights we spend
melting the lies away,
mixing colors - messy, delighted,
scribbling all over the illusion of separate skin.