|Riverside — © Andrea Orioli at 1x.com|
Rumi says …
A lover has four streams inside,I know, for my love is four rivers.
of water, wine, honey, and milk
I have swum their currents,
rested and slept on her shores.
On the breasts banking the river colostrum
mauve founts spray drops of ambrosial light
and starbursts curdle in the milky way.
The river melliflu rolls and sings
in her humming wax throat,
pistil lips pollinated by a twilight kiss
bear my swelling nightfall sting
and whisper blossoms in the honey melon morn.
Succulent banks of the river vulva,
grooved channel of wine where lips
squeeze grapes and drip their juice
on sleeping oysters.
From the banks of the river virga,
her eyes watch like fruit hanging
from plum trees planted in a gentle rain,
plums that know the minutiae
and minuets of morning dew,
the penetralia of upstream waters,
the fate of the moon flicked raindrops that fill
my begging bowl with their silver glint.
© Lorenzo — Alchemist's Pillow
|Drinking from the Holy River — © Mitchell Kanashkevich at 1x.com|
I will be away for a few days. Vacation time. My rivers and me are going to look for a fine summer spot to do some serious skinny dipping … or plump plum plucking ... or some such fun. I'll see you all on my return.