The Space…

FEEDING
 
I know it!
There is surprise in unlikely places.
 
For instance, the alder leaves
On the tree that blow towards me
Are half-eaten, egging and
Nodding their stems as if to say:
We’re doing well in the shade,
We’re being fed and we’re feeding,
Breast-feeding the soil, and the grass, too,
And you, man of the 21st century, they ask,
What do you need? And I say,
Or rather I think what I’d like to say,
Maybe you’ll let my legs and arms
Brush against you, let some sensuous touch
Open my heart again and unfasten my lips,
Let the sap and stir within you
Meet saliva and blood within me
So that I’m softer on the grass,
And immensely easier with my words,
And I allow the wistfulness of the breeze
To breathe relief on my storm.
 
So I steady myself shyly and ease my body
Among the branches and the leaves
And await surprises.

Michael Joyce