Our eyes steal glances of beloveds, grazing on form and flesh,
translating energy into fantasy.
As the wind belongs to this forest of fir, hemlock and cedar,
your hands belong to the soft slopes of my body,
caressing my cells to whisper, hum, and to moan.
We have known each other
by other names
in other times:
wild shadow-dancer
lakeside star-gazer
moon-tracking tent-dweller
roaring river-rider
hearth-keeper
soul-healer
terrestrial trail-bound lover.
We satiate bodily desires with huckleberries and afternoon swimming–
momentary pleasure quenching.
Great longing spans the distance between our lives.
Longing follows us home.
It fuels our dreams, awakens our senses.
Longing asks us to remember how to love through chaos.