On the occasion of my alien birth

I made a covenant with the singing stormclouds

who brought me, yearning and alone,

to this distant world that spins the dance

of a woman's dreams.

And the covenant in my innocence made

entwined me forever with an infant promise

to make love, gentle as morning,

to this distant world that sings the songs

of a barefoot child.

In the crevices of her wrinkled charm

I lie in empassioned awe as I reach for her lips

and feel dew, honeysuckle soft,

on the greening hills that are the breasts

from whence I draw hope.

In the artieris of her flowing streams

I feel the pulsating rise of a hungry desire

to make love, for her and for me,

as sensuous fields color her skin

and a breeze smiles and sighs.

(Included in  So Far To Go When We Get There, Copyright Dudley Weeks, 1992]

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