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