Untitled IX

Months of unseasonably warm
weather has produced lush
green grass well before its time.

The blades, pleasant and thick,
warm beneath my bare feet:
the earth beneath still cool.

I slip off my shoes and socks,
tenderly walking into the wild
hinterland, feeling my spirit gasp

and then exhaling a deep
angst built up over some time,
when breathless was a simpler option.

Grounding my inner spacial
to the outer microcosm, feeling
vibrations raising tusk horns

in my legs, rippling and  rising
to my crown. This connection
is a need, a craving, an abstract

in my double helix, pulling me
deep into the center of all life
flowing through and out.